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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885416">Wicked Games</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiceHoney/pseuds/SpiceHoney'>SpiceHoney</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>True Blood (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Completely improvised, Consensual, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Not Beta Read, Organized Crime, Romance, what is an outline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:07:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>99,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiceHoney/pseuds/SpiceHoney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Money went missing off Fangtasia's books - a serious offence according to the Louisiana Vampire Queen. To make sure it never happens again, Eric Northman is given a new accountant, but she is a hell lot more than he bargained for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eric Northman/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>228</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cherry Bomb</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The room was uncomfortably bright. The Queen had a strange lingering obsession with sunlight for a vampire her age. But what was really unsettling him was how still everything stood. The fake scenery painted on the windows added to the feeling of being frozen in place and in time. Even the pool water by his feet was smooth like a blue mirror. Eric Northman hated this place. The ridiculously sized New Orleans mansion, the inauthentic architecture, the gaudy decor, the annoying echo of every room, but he especially hated the Queen's fake day room. Everything about it irked him. The bright lighting that was supposed to imitate the sun felt off. It had been a thousand years since Eric felt sunlight on his skin, but whatever <em>this </em>room emulated… Wasn't even close to what he remembered the sun being. Even the large potted palm trees were browning at the edges - unhappy with the illusionist lighting. He shifted on his feet, and caught a glance at his hands - they looked sickly and pale, even more than usual. <em>Obviously.</em> He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Maybe he hated this place so much because he hated what it meant. Every time he travelled to New Orleans to meet with the Louisiana vampire Queen, Eric had to either ask for a favor or forgiveness.</p><p>Eric liked asking the Queen for favors as much as he liked sticking his hand in a running garburator, but right now he could only wish it was the actual reason for his visit. Eric knew he was in deep shit the second he arrived. A regular run-of-the-mill mishap would have been met with a smiley butler and at least a human aperitif, followed by a firm slap on the wrist, and maybe another add-on to his ever so long list of responsibilities as the Sheriff of Area 5. Eric was actually reasonably good at avoiding this, unlike some of the Queen's other Sheriffs. But clearly not good enough. He still found himself waiting for his Queen, all alone in this big, empty, bright room.</p><p>Deep, <em>deep</em> shit.</p><p>After what it felt like an actual eternity, high heels approached from the room adjacent and the red-headed Queen entered, wearing a beautiful gold sequin gown and bright red lipstick. She did not acknowledge him whatsoever. Instead, the Queen just kept walking beside the pool, chin high, dainty hands clipping her heavy jewel-encrusted earrings back on. <em>Maybe she just got laid and is in a good mood</em>, Eric hoped.</p><p>"Good evening, your Highness-"</p><p>"<em>Sit</em> down, Mr. Northman," Sophie-Anne demanded.</p><p>No recent orgasms were found in her cold voice. Eric obeyed, sitting on the stiff antique chaise behind him, hating himself for it. This was definitely going to be worse than he thought.</p><p>"Explain to me again," the Queen continued. "How someone as intelligent and as ancient as you, fell for the oldest trick in the book?" She shot him an icy cold look that matched her tone.</p><p>"The problem has been taken care of, my Queen," Eric assured her, wanting to get up and head out promptly, but he knew Sophie-Anne wasn't going to let him out so easily.</p><p>"Do <em>NOT</em> take me for a fool, Mr. Northman!" She shouted showing her fangs, pacing around the pool, back and forth. Eric was momentarily thankful there was an entire body of water between them. "You allowed someone to steal from you! A Sheriff! He might as well have stolen from <em>me!</em>"</p><p>"And he has paid the highest of prices for it, your Highness. It will never happen-"</p><p>"But it <em>did</em> happen, and that is bad enough!" She shouted.</p><p>Neither of them knew what to say next. Eric regretted not torturing Longshadow a bit longer before ending his pathetic excuse of a life. Longshadow, Eric and Pam were owners of Fangtasia for three years now, ever since its conversion from a video rental store. Eric knew the vampire for centuries, and he thought he was a man of high intelligence and honor. He turned out to be neither. Longshadow was the first to show up and the last one to leave every night at Fangtasia, never missing a single night. It was probably why it took Eric so long to realize it was him who was stealing from him. Little by little, Longshadow stole close to 60 thousand dollars. Some from Fangtasia, a lot from… Other dealings. Eric blamed himself for not choosing a better partner, but he needed the capital to buy the place next door to expand their little store into Pam's dream bar. He also blamed himself for picking such an incompetent accountant who didn't catch it earlier. Choices were made, mistakes were done.</p><p>"No one knows about the money he took or where it came from, your position with the Authority is not in any way compromised. There were no witnesses to what I've done with him either-"</p><p>"Well, that's at least <em>something!"</em> The Queen rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration.</p><p>If there were witnesses to Longshadow's doing, the Ministry and the Authority would be quick to discover Fangtasia's income was <em>way</em> higher than Eric had been declaring all these years. This was due to an arrangement between Sophie-Anne and Eric, in which they harvested, packaged, distributed and sold V - vampire blood - to humans. Which was both an illegal substance to humans <em>and</em> a high crime for vampires to commit. The Authority long deemed vampire blood sacred. The bonds their magic blood created between vampires and humans were absolutely holy, and not to be diminished for recreational drug use by junkies. But when it came to most rules - Eric couldn't care less. Selling the stuff was free real estate as far as he knew.</p><p>"I guarantee-"</p><p>"Guarantee what?! That you'll keep track of every cent in and out of your enterprises from now on?"</p><p>"Yes!"</p><p>"Well, now <em>that</em> I believe," the Queen said, finally letting her fangs retract, and regaining her usual regal posture.</p><p>She sat on her vintage lounge chair, gracefully crossing her legs. Sophie-Anne raised her palms and clapped, and a barely-clothed servant entered the room at once as if he were eagerly waiting to be summoned all along. The young man sat on the floor in front of his Queen, like an obedient pet. But her rage could still be heard in her voice when she sentenced Eric to his punishment. "I am giving you my accountant."</p><p>The young servant flinched, a look of confusion flashed across his face. Eric, equally bewildered, blinked a couple of times and his shoulder involuntarily relaxed. His big punishment was some accountant? Sure, Bruce's ineptitude was disappointing, but he was the one who caught the missing money and informed Eric in the first place.</p><p>"Your Highness that won't be necessary, I can-"</p><p>"<em>You</em> cannot, clearly, be a judge of character <em>or</em> competency. Carson will take over all of your affairs. Official <em>and</em> unofficial."</p><p>"All my - I think this goes beyond your jurisdiction-"</p><p>"I am your <em>Queen</em>, you <em>will</em> take my accountant and you <em>will</em> obey me. Do I make myself clear?!" She raised her voice again.</p><p>The servant rested his head on the Queen's lap, gently offering his neck to her. What the hell did Sophie-Anne do these humans to keep them tame like this? Even glamouring didn't last this long. Eric could almost swear that the Queen's staff <em>enjoyed</em> being her slaves. The young man looked at Eric, curious to hear his answer too.</p><p>"Certainly, your Highness." Eric nodded, reluctantly. He could handle a new accountant. Letting Bruce go would be a small price to pay. Almost <em>too</em> small...</p><p>"You are free to go." Sophie-Anne's attention narrowed on her servant's neck veins.</p><p>Eric got up and quickly turned on his heels, he was more than ready to fly the fuck out of here. But even before he made three feet away from his chair, the Queen spoke again.</p><p>"Eric…" He stopped and turned his head, glancing at his Queen. "I should inform you that my accountant carries a protection edict under my authority which I now entrust to you. So be careful. Carson can be... Quite delicate," Sophie-Anne warned, and again, with sorrow in her voice. "But not like a flower. More like…. A bomb."</p><hr/><p>Only spring break would make Fangtasia this full on a Sunday. Eric sat on his usual chair mid-stage at Fangtasia, half-bored as usual. His phone was buzzing with his usual booty-calls, but no one he had the appetite for at the moment. He had been in a weird mood, ever since his visit to New Orleans. It left with a sour taste in his mouth, along with this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that no amount of blood or sex could get rid of. Queen Sophie-Ann had sentenced him to hand over the books of all his businesses to some accountant he's never met, or even heard of. He couldn't shake the memory of the servant's shudder at the mention of his name: Carson. There was something ominous about Sophie-Anne's warning too.</p><p>It had been two days, and no one had shown up yet. Not even a letter requesting documents or passwords. Whoever this Carson was, he guessed he didn't work weekends and just assumed he would show up tomorrow. Unimpressed, Eric lazily sunk further in his chair and put his feet up on the ottoman. He considered checking on the guests in the basement. He had chained up three idiotic humans who he had hired to distribute V. The morons ended up getting arrested with 5 vials of the stuff while driving drunk. Drug dealers were getting dumber by the minute, he swore. But tonight he didn't feel like getting dirty. Pam just did his hair earlier tonight and it would be a waste.</p><p>Ignoring his phone, he scanned the room. As the patrons danced and silently hunted for the next meal/fuck/both, something caught his eye: a woman. She looked amusingly out of place, but in this instance, it was a good thing. Even though she wore tight black clothing like everyone else, she was anything but. Her tight knee-length black dress had a scoop neckline and ¾ length sleeves, and she wore bright pink pumps. She sat alone in the red leather booth in a dark corner, with a lone white wine glass. Her strawberry blond hair was perfectly done in soft loose curls. Her brown eyes watched the club curiously, and every so often she would type something in her BlackBerry - pale pink almond nails, perfectly manicured. Whatever appetite he had tonight, Eric was sure she would perfectly quench it. Eric nodded to Pam at the bar, and his progeny quickly made her way to the stage. She stood beside him, watching the crowd below, one hand on the back of his throne, the other on her hip.</p><p>"Pam, who is that?"</p><p>"Ophelia Crawford," Pam sighed, disappointed. "And here I was, hoping you wouldn't notice her..."</p><p>She was hoping for the impossible. "Fetch me our guest, would you?"</p><p>"Fine," she barked. "But you ain't fuckin' her on your desk, I spent hours preppin' all the paperwork for the next accountant-"</p><p>"Just go, Pamela."</p><p>With another sigh, the tall blonde made her way through the crowd. The patrons quickly cleared her path, as they knew better to not even dare to touch Pam. Over the heavy metal music blasting in Fangtasia, Eric couldn't make out what Pam told her, but he could read the surprise and confusion on the woman's face. The human grabbed her silver clutch and her cellphone and closely followed Pam towards the throne. Once she stood up, he could study her better. The girl wasn't tall enough to be a model, but she certainly had the face of one. High cheekbones, nice lips with dark wine coloured lipstick, big brown eyes with a smokey eye. The way she strutted in her heels, showed off her impeccable body. If he were to guess, she was a dancer. She certainly walked and moved gracefully like one. Vampires in the club finally took notice of her. It was like watching a white swan cut through a crowd of bloodthirsty hyenas. If it weren't for Pam's presence, the human would not have made all the way to the stage.</p><p>"Ophelia Crawford, meet Eric Northman, Sheriff of area 5. Eric, meet Ophelia." The girl gave a small smile and nodded."<em>Not on your desk</em>!" Pam warned again in old Swedish before leaving the two alone and heading back to the bar.</p><p>The white swan stood by his feet, unsure what to expect next. From here, he could hear Ophelia Crawford's heart beating fast and scared, but her face didn't show it. It made her ten times more enticing.</p><p>"Take a seat, Miss Crawford."</p><p>Without a word, the woman sat on the chair next to him. It was right then that he caught her scent. Ophelia wore Chanel No. 5, and even though it wasn't that popular anymore, it gave him a happy feeling of pure nostalgia. But there was something else coming off her skin. It was smooth and sweet, like wildflower honey. It was golden like her hair, bright like her eyes. She smelled divine. Eric liked the way she looked at him. Kind, and sweet. She was a doll. What the hell was some like her doing here?</p><p>"Are you lost?" He asked her quietly.</p><p>"No," she chuckled. She had small dimples when she smiled. "I was supposed to meet an old friend, but I suppose her babysitter is late..."</p><p>"Can't say I'm saddened by this."</p><p>"She told me a lot about Shreveport and this bar. It's quite…" She looked around trying to find the correct words to not be rude. "Something."</p><p>"You're new in town?"</p><p>"Yes," <em>brilliant.</em></p><p>"I can show you around if you wish."</p><p>"Oh, really?" Her smile was making him hard already.</p><p>"I'll start by showing you my office."</p><p>She was <em>about</em> to say yes, but suddenly her expression changed. She paused, and her eyes grew nervous, and she clutched her purse and phone again. The swan changed right in front of his eyes, to something much less enchanting. "I'd love to, but you're about to get raided."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Ophelia got up instantly. "There's a vampire feeding on a human in the men's bathroom. Bye-"</p><p>And Ophelia got up and b-lined to the emergency door beside the stage, disappearing outside. Eric got up with the intention of following her into the dark alley and taking her neck right then and there, but the night had other plans. A man shouted in the crowd, and suddenly the front door busted wide open with Shreveport cops. All patrons started screaming and running, and absolute panic ensued. Eric glanced at Pam, who disappeared down to the basement to hide their dumbass drug dealers. Fangtasia staff knew the raid procedure: hide the illegal shit first, escape second.</p><p>Eric rushed to the men's bathroom, and not to his surprise there was a man, mid-50s and poorly dressed, passed out on the tile floor, bleeding from a bite on his neck. <em>Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.</em> Whoever did this, he was going to rip their fangs out himself. Eric grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, bit his own hand and shoved in the man's mouth. Back from unconsciousness, he only let the man suck on it twice. He pulled his hand away and wiped the remainder of blood on the man's neck to close off the wound. The man stood in front of him, looking at Eric as if he were a God.</p><p>"Run little lamb, run," Eric told him, snarling with his fangs.</p><p>With a little scared whimper, he finally left the bathroom, and Eric could finally leave. Hoping Pam had everything under control downstairs, he ran through the same door Ophelia escaped seconds earlier. There were people and vampires running and cops yelling outside, but luckily, Eric could fly and disappear into the night.</p><p>When he landed on the porch of his own home, he let himself breathe by sitting on the steps. The silence felt foreign for a couple of minutes. His house was tucked away in a forgotten suburb pocket, not too far from Fangtasia. He intentionally had let the garden trees and bushes overgrow for privacy. Any minute now, Pam would land and they would debrief.</p><p>
  <em>You're about to get raided.</em>
</p><p>How in the <em>fuck</em> did that woman know? Was she in the bathroom minutes before he noticed her? If yes, what was she doing in the men's bathroom? And how did Pam or Chow not catch this? And why did Ophelia escape? Being human, she wasn't at risk of being arrested. Unless… She was.</p><p>Pam landed and walked right past him, pissed off. Eric followed her inside.</p><p>"It's the second fuckin' time this month!" Pam sneered, not even looking at him. "Fucking cunts!"</p><p>Eric closed the front door. "Did you-"</p><p>"Yeah, it's fucking taken care of. They won't find shit in the basement."</p><p>"She knew," Eric told her unceremoniously.</p><p>"Who knew?"<br/>"Ophelia Crawford."</p><p>"What?!"</p><p>"She knew there was a vampire illegally feeding in the bathroom, and she knew a raid was about to happen. Want to enlighten me how?!"</p><p>"Eric, I watched her sit in the booth <em>all fucking night. </em>What the fuck?!"</p><p>Pam took off her high heels and threw them across the living room, right into the mirror hanging in the foyer. She threw them with such force, the first heel broke the mirror, the second one knocked it off the wall. The silver-colored glass exploded everywhere.</p><p>"FUCK!" She screamed.</p><p>Too tired to deal with angry Pam and the glass everywhere, Eric just retired to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He understood his progeny's anger. If the cops caught the vampire eating a human in the bathroom, not only it would make the news but it would majorly piss off the Authority, the 8Magister, the Queen and even worse, the American Vampire League. But since Eric was tipped seconds before, he managed to avoid it by the skin of the fangs. If the cops found the humans or the V in the basement… It was a close call, <em>way</em> too fucking close.</p><p>If it wasn't for that woman...</p><p>Eric laid in his firm king-size bed, kicking his shoes off. He closed his eyes and tried to slow down the mental rush spiralling with worse case scenarios. Tomorrow was Monday, and Fangtasia was closed. Plenty of time for him to go hunting. And he certainly knew who was going to be number one on the fucking list.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dirty Deeds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She watched clouds go by the window with a heavy heart. Despite the pay increase and the free luxury penthouse condo, all Olivia could taste was the bitterness of demotion. Sophie-Anne assured her this was far from it, that Olivia was still employed by the Queen and she was still to abide by Her Majesty's best interests. But this information reached her in the form of a letter, handed to her by one of the Queen's staff. If Sophie-Anne really meant it, she would have done it in person. Olivia wasn't an idiot, she could read between the lines. But she knew the risks of the choices she made, or at least that's what she told herself. It was easier that way. Still, Olivia couldn't help but grieve, not because of her new assignment, but because of the old one. She really didn't want to leave New Orleans so soon, but before she already realized it, she was already here, all alone in the small private jet. Destination: Shreveport.</p><p>What hurt the most was that Olivia didn't even get to say goodbye.</p><p>Other than the usual rumblings of an aircraft, the plane was quiet as she was the only passenger in the jet's cabin. She looked down at her laptop, rereading her notes for the tenth time, her brain not even retaining the words lazily written. From what she understood about her new client, silence and peace would be a rarity from now on. <em>It's a good thing, </em>she thought. Keeping her mind busy would mend her little broken heart a bit faster. Hopefully.</p><p>Once she landed, a car was already waiting for her at the end of the tarmac to take her to her new home. Tomorrow she would meet Eric Northman, the infamous sheriff of area 5. All she knew about him was what the Queen had told her, and her opinion of him varied highly depending on her mood. On a good night, he was loyal, ruled mercilessly, was feared and respected by his subjects. Mostly due to his age, as Eric Northman was one of the oldest vampires around, well over a thousand years old. His strength and speed were unmatched. On a bad night, he was a narcissistic asshole and a manipulative power-hungry liar. Olivia guessed he was probably all of the above, all the time.</p><p>Every trait she did not want in a client. Olivia wasn't the regular kind of forensic accountant. She was the dark kind, the one you call to launder money and turn illegal businesses clean on paper. And more often than not, it required some fundamental changes in how people handled their business. As if it weren't challenging enough, running a vampire's books was especially difficult in the current political climate. The FBI, IRS and the DEA have been all over their asses, prosecuting vampires at every corner they could since the Great Revelation. But as long as they listened, and lived by Olivia's rules, it would be okay. Olivia lived by a strict set of commands that she very seldomly broke. Rules were the pillar of keeping her head attached to her body, and most importantly, her ass out of jail. So to find out Eric's blindspots, she had to use:</p><p>
  <strong>Rule number 3: everyone lies.</strong>
</p><p>And to catch a liar, one must lie too. In order for Olivia to do her job properly, it would require the sheriff's unconditional trust since she would be in control of basically all his money. The first step was to see who the vampire <em>really </em>was. Eric Northman did not know this yet, but he was about to hate Olivia Carson with a burning passion.</p><hr/><p>When Eric managed to leave his bedroom, he found no trace of broken glass anywhere in the foyer. He had a small, but trusty day staff who took care of most of the pesky things in his life such as Pam's tantrum carnages. In the kitchen, he found a note from his progeny:</p><p>
  <em>Taking the night off - P.</em>
</p><p>He sighed, reaching into the fridge for a bag of blood to start off the night right. Great, he would have to handle the new accountant alone. Better that, than having cranky Pam around nagging the poor bastard around. After he finished his bag of AB-, he took a cold shower and put on fresh clothes before heading back to Fangtasia.</p><p>The parking lot was quiet and empty. Only Ginger's shitty car was parked out front. He thought it was strange for the accountant not to be here already, but nevertheless, more time for him to do more important work. Eric didn't really care if the guy showed up or not at this point. He had more pressing matters in his mind.</p><p>Ginger had cleaned the whole place from the night before and almost tripped on herself when she spotted Eric enter.</p><p>"Hello, Mr. Northman," she said, all giddy as usual. Everything about her personality got annoying about 5 years ago, but she was a good employee and Pam strictly forbade him from firing her.</p><p>"Ginger I am expecting the new accountant to show up tonight. Let me know when he shows up, will you?"</p><p>"Y-yes, sir!" She said, an octave too high.</p><p>After he sat on his chair in his office, his first instinct was to push the piles and piles of paper cluttering his desk to the side, but he stopped himself.</p><p>
  <em>Not on your fuckin' desk.</em>
</p><p>Right. These were all the papers for the accountant, carefully prepared by Pam. Already annoyed, he decided to use the computer later. He swivelled on his chair and reached for the security camera remote. He leaned forward closer to the four monitors behind his desk and rewinded the ancient device to around opening time. He flipped the tapes between forward and backwards on the video, looking for a specific woman, until he found her: lower corner of the entrance footage. 11:13 PM. Pam ID's her, she enters. Forward three seconds, another camera: at the bar. Ginger serves Ophelia a glass of white wine. Then, she disappears in the corner until… 11:46 PM, where she crosses the dancefloor with Pam. 11:49 PM, she sits with Eric. 11:52 PM cops show up in the parking lot, 11:54 PM she leaves through the east exit, running down the alley. The backstreet camera shows her taking off her pink heels and running south bare feet until she is entirely out of frame.</p><p>This…. Literally gave him nothing. What a waste of fucking time.</p><p>"How did she know?" He muttered.</p><p>He rewinded the tape again, this time looking at the bathroom hallway camera. Eric recognized the human he brought back to consciousness last night as he entered the bathroom with a vampire he knew, Anthony Grey. It wouldn't be too hard to find him either, Eric knew exactly who he was. Grey owned a 24-hour dry cleaner across town. And, he would be having a date with the Magister and become a fangless little bitch soon enough.</p><p>"Knock, knock!" Ginger's high pitched voice spoke behind him.</p><p>"What?!" He barked, not turning around.</p><p>"Miss Carson is here!"</p><p>Eric swivelled back in his chair so fast the bearings on the chair almost came loose. Behind Ginger, was <em>her.</em> They locked eyes, both knowing the gig was up.</p><p>"Thank you, Ginger, please close the door on your way out." He commanded.</p><p>Ginger awkwardly shuffled around <em>Miss </em>fucking <em>Carson</em> and closed the door gently behind her. The room suddenly felt very hot.</p><p>"I'd say nice to meet you, but it seems we've met last night." She spoke in her friendly voice.</p><p>That's was the fucking <em>understatement</em> of the year. Carson was not only a <em>lady</em> accountant (that was on him, he just assumed Carson was a man), but they did indeed meet last night. But Eric Northman had met her as Ophelia Crawford.</p><p><em>Carson can be quite delicate. But not like a flower, more like a bomb.</em> He remembered the Queen saying. No <em>motherfucking </em>shit.</p><p>She looked different than last night. Carson was wearing high-waisted black leather pants, an oversized men's oxford shirt tucked in, and navy blue closed-toe heels. Her hair was blown out straight, and her make up was sheer and radiant. The only things that were the same, were her nice brown eyes and her maddening delicious scent. The fact that she was even hotter as Carson, deeply irritated him.</p><p>"I'd like to apologize for last night," she added after Eric's long silence. She stepped forward and took a seat across the table, realizing he wasn't going to invite her to. "I needed to know how you operated without knowing who I was. You see, people tend to lie to their accountants..."</p><p>"Do they now?" Eric asked rhetorically.</p><p>"I wasn't really expecting you to notice me. I only meant to be a fly on the wall."</p><p>How in the <em>fuck</em> does someone like <em>her</em> expect to go unnoticed? Eric wanted to ask the woman how she knew about the raid, but he didn't anticipate her to be truthful. He didn't know what to ask her next at all. Miss Carson looked at the table, recognizing the papers.</p><p>"I see you've gracefully prepared the documents I've asked," She noted with a smile.</p><p>Eric pushed his chair back, away from the table, and gestured for her to take a look at the papers herself. She hesitated, but got up and slowly approached his side of the table, glancing at him over her shoulder periodically. She knew he was studying her every breath.</p><p>He watched her go through the papers, meticulously examining them, stacking them carefully in a specific order on her left hand, until there were very few piles left. Her scent was pure, and golden, and filled him with happy post-war memories. If he reached forward with his hand, he could grab her ass too. He liked that.</p><p>"Where's the rest?" She asked, in a serious tone.</p><p>"It's all there. Everything the old accountant had."</p><p>She chuckled sarcastically. "I'm not like your old accountant, Mr. Northman."</p><p>"No," he replied coolly. "You aren't." In a swift quick movement, he stood up and stepped real close to Carson's body, who took a step back, almost sitting on the table. She held all the papers in front of her as if they were somehow her body armour. Her scent was intoxicating. "Bruce wouldn't have lied to me."</p><p>"I already said sorry." She barked back, straightening her back. Her heart beating fast, but not a trace of fear showing. "I will need <em>all</em> the documents pertaining to <em>all</em> your real estate properties, your offshore accounts and assets, plus your Blackbook. I'm also missing all documents pertaining to Pamela-"</p><p>Eric's jaw tightened. The Blackbook was the recording of his V selling side business. Who sold what, from whom, to whom and how much. No human in this area could deal vampire blood without his blessing - and most importantly, without his cut. This meant Carson knew all about the V, of course, she did. She worked for Sophie-Anne, the one who made him get involved with this dirty business first place.</p><p>"Why do you want the Blackbook?" He interrupted angrily with a snarl, fangs out and inches to her face.</p><p>"I'm an accountant, Mr. Northman," she repeated, not even flinching. "Our Majesty has sent me to launder your dirty vampire money and commit tax evasion so the Authority gets a bigger cut than the IRS, and to embezzle your drug-dealing money so <em>she</em> gets her rightful part, and the Authority never <em>ever</em> finds out about it; all while keeping the feds and the DAE away from both of us, <em>and</em> the filthy paws of any of your associates <em>out</em> of all of it."</p><p>And here it was: the <em>real</em> punishment by hers truly, Queen Sophie-Anne. Eric disliked this human bitch about as much as he wanted to fuck her and drink her dry. It was a lot. But of course, he couldn't.</p><p>"Now, where is your Blackbook, Mr. Northman?" She repeated.</p><p>The tone of her voice, so demanding, so authoritarian, so audacious… It was truly pushing his buttons. However, Eric Northman only had <em>one </em>button: annihilate. Which, due to the edict on her head, he could not do. Plan B. Eric looked deeply into her eyes, softening her soul. He was going to glamour this little breather into submission. He raised his hand, softly touching her jawline with the back of her finger. Never again she was going to give him this sassy sour attitude.</p><p>"<em>Easy now little bird…" </em>he whispered.</p><p>But her eyebrows frowned and with a fast wave as she slapped his hand away. "Glamouring doesn't work on me, Mr. Northman."</p><p>Eric paused. She was becoming more and more interesting by the minute. It was extremely rare that a human could resist being glamoured but it was possible. It made sense Queen Sophie-Anne would hire a human with such capabilities. The only way of getting information out of her would require much more painful methods. And again, due to the fucking edict of protection on Carson placed by the Queen, Eric could do no harm to her. No <em>physical</em> harm anyway. Eric came with another idea. What he was about to do was much worse. Oh no, he was in it to play the <em>long</em> fucking game.</p><p>"Miss Carson, I believe we've started on the wrong foot here," he said, retracting his fangs. "You can call me Eric."</p><p>Her body half-relaxed. "Olivia," she told him.</p><p>"Good. Olivia, my progeny Pamela will drop by your place tomorrow first thing after sunset with the remainder of the papers you require, including my Blackbook," Eric reached over his desk, his body completely pinning hers against his desk. Her skin was warm, and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to sink his teeth on her soft tanned skin. He grabbed a pen and a post-it note. "Your current address, please."</p><p>Her heart was still beating a mile a minute, hard against her ribcage. <em>Come on, play ball with me. </em>Olivia hesitated but took the pen and paper and scribbled some little words, in perfectly neat handwriting.</p><p>"That would be all, Mr. N- Eric." She smiled again. <em>Yes, let your guard down little bird. </em>"I shall review your current situation, and we will meet again at this time later on this week."</p><p>Eric stepped again, letting the woman leave. Olivia took all the stacked papers and put them neatly in her briefcase, closing it with two clicks. Her remarkable scent was starting to fade away, leaving a hole in Eric's stomach. The tone of her hair and skin against her white shirt was beautiful. This was no longer a question of <em>who</em> was Olivia Carson. But <em>what</em> was Olivia Carson?</p><p>Oh, the game he was about to play was a wicked one.</p><hr/><p>Pam stood in the hallway at 7:05 PM, waiting. She shuffled on her heels one more time, quietly, killing time. She couldn't mess it up, Pam only had one shot. She closed her eyes trying to hear the traffic outside. The walls in this building were thick - she wondered if the Queen put Olivia here because of it, other than it was just a really nice building. Shreveport was not particularly booming in the luxury real estate business.</p><p>7:09 PM. <em>Game time.</em> Pam knocked on the door loudly. Feet walked towards the door from the inside, and Olivia answered the door.</p><p>"Hello again, cupcake," Pam told her. Olivia was wearing a men's light blue oxford shirt as a dress, with a blush pink satin ribbon tied around her waist. Eric was right, she was <em>annoyingly</em> attractive once they knew who she was. Or who she <em>claimed </em>to be, anyway.</p><p>"Hello, Miss Swynford De Beaufort, you have the papers I need?"</p><p>"Yes, I sure do," Pam said, not moving.</p><p>Olivia looked down at Pam's hand, waiting to receive the papers. "Well?"</p><p>"Eric may be keen on obeying his Queen and accepting you as his accountant or whateva, but I ain't. Especially after the lil' stunt you pulled on Sunday."</p><p>The woman sighed as if she were bored with this little game. But Pam had a plan, and about 2 minutes and 35 seconds to kill.</p><p>"I'll give you the papers you need, including my own shit, but I'll need something in return." Pam declared.</p><p>Olivia raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"</p><p>"You gotta invite me inside," Pam smirked. "It's only fair."</p><p>"Fine," Olivia said, much to her surprise. "Come in Pamela."</p><p>She was surprised the woman didn't put up an argument. Pam stepped inside carefully and handed the papers over. Before Olivia could stop her, she rushed deep into her apartment. Again, for Pam's confusion, Olivia didn't seem to mind. It was strange having a human not care about a vampire in their own home, much less not putting up a fight.</p><p>"Nice place," Pam said admiring the high ceilings.</p><p>"Thanks," Olivia muttered, distracted. She was preoccupied with checking over the bundle of papers she was handed.</p><p>Her apartment had nice warm white walls, dark wooden floors, a completely open concept and sophisticated feminine furniture. It lacked the brand new furniture smell and she noticed slight signs of wear and tear all over the place. Dust peeking from under the fridge, small scratches on the dining room table, tiny dents on the TV console, little scuffs on the wall. Olivia's delightful scent lingered in the air, but it didn't seep from the couch or her other belongings. She hadn't been here for very long, but the furniture was. Nothing here was brand new: this was most certainly a furnished rental. <em>Interesting.</em></p><p>Pam glanced at her watch: it was game time. She lazily strutted towards the large living room windows to "checkout" the woman's penthouse view. It looked fine, but Shreveport was no Swiss Alps. She looked down and smiled. <em>Bingo.</em></p><p>"Nice view. Oh, some poor bastard's car is getting towed." Pam said, in her most convincingly uninterested tone. "You don't drive a black BMW sedan, do you?"</p><p>Olivia finally looked up from the papers she was given, with a set of deer in the headlights eyes. She jogged to the window beside Pam, looking down at the street. <em>Swing of the bat and-</em></p><p>"Oh, shoot!" She shouted, turning around and running across her apartment. Olivia tossed the papers on the marble kitchen counter, grabbed her car keys and ran out.</p><p>
  <em>Homerun.</em>
</p><p>While Pam was blowing off some steam the night prior, Eric carefully curated a plan to do digging on this accountant chick the Queen so gracefully sent over. Checking the parking lot tapes of her first official visit, he took notice of her car and license plate. Along with the address she wrote on a note, he did some creeping. She lived in a small and exclusive luxury apartment building in one of the few successfully gentrified neighbourhoods close to downtown. When he went over for further investigation, he also discovered Olivia also, unfortunately, slept with all her curtains closed. So he created a distraction: he glamoured a towing truck employee to tow her car at exactly 7:11 PM, while Pam was inside her apartment.</p><p>Alone in the apartment, Pam quickly scanned Olivia's belongings in the living room, and on the shelves. Nothing personal: some boring photography books, some autobiographies that looked brand new and never read. No personal mail, or photos on display. Not even a graduation diploma. The kitchen only had basic staples and regular food (she was a fan of salty snacks).</p><p>In Olivia's purse, there were three or lipsticks of a similar shade, dark rose nude, plus some other boring shit. She went through her wallet: no cash but a couple of credit cards, health insurance and her driver's license. Olivia Rose Carson, 28, New Jersey. Looked cute in the picture too.</p><p>Pam quickly made her way to the bathroom. Olivia had a respectable collection of hair and skin care products, but inside of the medicine cabinet, there was nothing but Advil. <em>Damn.</em></p><p>"This bitch is boring," Pam muttered. She opened a door off the hallway expecting to be the master bedroom, but instead, she found an almost empty spare bedroom. One wall was fully covered in mirrors, and in the very middle was a sturdy stripper pole. "Ah, maybe not." Olivia Carson had some sexy hobbies indeed.</p><p>In the master bedroom, she didn't find anything interesting, other than a vibrator in the nightstand, but let's be honest, who doesn't? Just adjacent to it was a small walk-in closet. Now <em>here</em> is where she would find out who Olivia Carson really was. Everything you needed to know about a woman was in her closet. At first glance, she had impeccable taste, which Pam approved. At the very end of the rack, she peaked a puffy black coat, with an iconic stripe by the zipper. It was a Moncler puffer coat. A designer winter coat for someone who lives in Louisiana? Perhaps she still had family up in New Jersey and visited for Christmas or whatever. On the top shelf, orange dust bags caught her eye. Not one, but three sizable Hermès bags sat lonely on the high shelf. She reached for one and opened it. It was a black with gold trim, brand new, 33" Hermes purse. She examined all three. All were empty, no creases on the leather, no scratches on the metalware - never used. <em>Strange.</em></p><p>Pam raised an eyebrow, putting the bags back on the shelf. Olivia would be back upstairs at any minute now, so Pam went straight to the jugular: her jewellery box. Her jaw almost dropped, as she owned some very recognizable items: a pair Tiffany &amp; Co. Bone golden cuffs, and six different Cartier juste un clout rings, a man's Rolex watch, and the pièce de résistance a pair of Van Cleef &amp; Arpels' snowflake earrings. Pam wanted to hold them in her palm, but they literally made her nervous because she knew the price tag. Something did not add up here.</p><p>Pam quickly checked her clothes again, examining the tags of each of the items hanging: Banana republic, Gap, Zara, Guess. She bent over and examined the shoes: lots of heels, no pair over 100 dollars. Something was wrong. Why would some who owned well over 150k worth of jewelry, and 30k in purses shop for clothing at a basic-ass mall and wear cheap shoes?</p><p>The specific jacket. The never-used Hermès bags. The jewelry. <em>Those earrings. </em>They were her money stash. Her luxury collection was carefully curated by how well they retained their value if kept in good condition. And they were small enough items that she could grab in one go in seconds and disappear into the night. Olivia Carson not only knew the value of money, but she knew how to hide it in plain sight. <em>Smart little cookie.</em> She was the kind of person who extremely calculated her every move. Pam wondered for a second if Olivia knew what she was doing, going through her stuff, and if this too was meant to be seen. If Pam was meant to discover what she was. Could she be that clever?</p><p>Pam knew what she was: Olivia Carson was a runaway. And runaways have secrets.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello! Some mild plot twists in this chapter haha</p><p>Thank you so much for all the love this story is getting! Just to clarify (if this chapter did not make it clear) I change POVs often, but I do like writing from Eric's perspective the most. Also, there will be no posting schedule, so make sure to bookmark/kudo to get the notifications.</p><p>much love xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What Kind of Monster Are You?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"God, this is going to take forever…" She sighed, exhausted. But Olivia still had a lot of work to do. <strong>Rule number 2: </strong>Triple check your math.</p><p>Olivia's whole body felt stiff. The sun was setting and her neck was starting to kill her. She snapped back out of reality, massaging her tired eyelids and closing her laptop. That was enough numbers for today. Now it was just her and the absolute maze of papers spread throughout her dining room table, floor, coffee table and kitchen counters. Fangtasia's books had more holes than a freaking colander. It was either a miracle, or he must have had glamoured half of the local government by now in order to not get caught.</p><p>Olivia tiptoed between the papers carefully placed on the floor, towards the guest bedroom. She had turned it in her own pole studio. Pole dancing was often highly sexualized because of the extremely talented exotic dancers who made it popular or dismissed as a slutty hobby for women seeking the male gaze. But to her, it was anything but. It was art. It required incredible strength from fingers to toes, flexibility and astounding control. And at the end of the day, it was just fun. If only her mother could see it now. Years and years paying for ballet classes at elite schools, and this turned out to be her adult hobby. She would find it hysterically funny - which reminded her, she should call her mother soon.</p><p>That had been her routine all week since she moved to Shreveport. Wake up, breakfast, errands, work, order takeout, practice pole until it arrives, eat while watching shitty reality TV and going to bed at around 3 AM. Every couple of days or so, she would call her mom and aunt up in New Jersey. She liked boring, she liked quiet, she wasn't one for too many friends. It was hard given her job and her… Talents. But tonight she still had work to do. Olivia needed signatures from Eric and Pam in order to buy some strategic shell companies to add to their portfolio.</p><p>After she ate her food, showered and dressed, Olivia headed over to her least favourite bar, probably ever. She knew Eric was playing her, and she knew Pam had peeked through her stuff while her car was being supposedly "towed". It didn't take her more than 3 seconds to figure out the driver had been glamoured into a Zombie. His head was completely empty. But Pam was right about one thing: she knew everything about her clients, and they knew nothing about her, other than what the Queen commanded. It would be difficult to keep fighting the current if she didn't let them get away with <em>something. </em>But whatever Pam found, thinks she found or even <em>not</em> found, was just crumbs. Olivia had designed it that way.</p><p><strong>Rule number 9: </strong>no personal belongings<strong>.</strong> Criminals can't afford to get attached or sentimental. She had to always be prepared to leave and disappear at the drop of a dime, it was simply not worth the risk.</p><p>Still, Olivia had to be in control. She had to pull in the reigns tighter, or this horse would certainly get off the path she wanted. And the path was narrow - little room for mistakes. The bar wasn't open yet, but the black leather tufted front door was unlocked. Along with the main entrance, Fangtasia had two other exits. One beside the stage, another one beside the bar. <strong>Rule number 5: </strong>always know where the exits are. Olivia never knew when she would have to turn a window into a door. Except, in this case, Fangtasia had no freaking windows. Go figure.</p><p>"Well, well, well... If it isn't Carmen Electra," Pam smirked from behind the bar. The blonde wore a full vintage pale blue Chanel dress suit while taking glasses out of the sanitizer and drying them spotless.</p><p>"Is Eric around? I need both of you to sign some papers," Olivia asked, sitting at the bar, surprised the countertop wasn't sticky like last time.</p><p>"He's working."</p><p>"In his office?"</p><p>"Magister's."</p><p><em>Ah, of course</em>. The vampire who fed on a human in the bathroom. He had broken a vampire rule: no public feeding. Not while the AVL was trying to get the Vampire's Rights Amendment passed in congress, at least. Eric <em>was</em> a good sheriff after all. "Well, some of these are for you anyway."</p><p>Olivia opened her briefcase, knowing the documents she needed were at the bottom. She didn't even notice Pam watching her, which is why her question caught her by surprise.</p><p>"How did you know about the raid? And about the vampire in the bathroom?"</p><p>Maybe she was reckless and shouldn't really have told Eric and tipped away her most well-kept secret. But if Sophie-Anne found out she was here when the raid happened, and Olivia had <em>let </em>it happen… It would be her head on a spike. Lose-lose, either way you sliced it. "I wouldn't be a very good accountant if I didn't."</p><p>"Bitch don't be cute with me. How did you know?"</p><p>"It is my job to find where your vulnerabilities are and catch them before they catch you. I have my methods, just be glad I caught it in time."</p><p>Olivia pushed the papers across the counter with a pen on top. Unsatisfied with the answer, Pam took them. After a minute of scanning the contracts, she started signing on the Xs.</p><p>"How come you don't wear them?"</p><p>"Wear what?"</p><p>"Your earrings."</p><p>Olivia froze. Sure, she had rightfully assumed Pam went through her stuff, but there was something oddly invasive about being questioned about it. She tried to change the subject, pulling the papers she needed. "I am wearing earrings, Pamela."</p><p>"No, not those tiny pearl ones. Your Van Cleef &amp; Arpels' snowflake earrings."</p><p>Olivia paused, feeling her heart tighten on her chest. "They are not for wearing."</p><p>"Of course," Pam said after a moment, sliding the papers back across the counter. "It's for running away, isn't it? Baby girl over here needs to jump ship at a moment's notice in case anyone finds out her little secret."</p><p>Olivia felt a full-body chill, and her jaw tightened. <em>Could she have figured out? That was impossible. No way.</em></p><p>"Oh yeah. You got me, Pam," she bluffed, putting the documents back in her briefcase and getting ready to leave. She'd be back another night for Eric. "I'm an illegal accountant who has money stashed away in case I ever find out my life is at risk. Which, you know, it's totally silly because I only work for <em>vampires.</em> Who are <em>such </em>upstanding citizens, and all."</p><p>"Don't be dense, there's an edict of protection on you. Eric is duty-bound to protect you at all costs. It's partially why you lyin' about who you were pissed me off so much. Had anything happened to <em>Ophelia</em>, it would have been Eric being punished at the Magister tonight."</p><p>"I can take care of myself."</p><p>Olivia's jaws tightened again as she got up to leave. That little piece of paper literally didn't mean a thing to her. It was protection <em>from </em>Eric she really needed.</p><p>Days later and her apartment was starting to look less like a bureaucratic war zone. She was <em>so </em>close to finishing phase 1. Everything had been scanned, accounts were re-wired, shell companies were mostly purchased and everything was going according to plan. But before starting phase 2, she really needed Eric's signature on some documents. There were a few simple rules to successfully commit tax evasion at this scale: As long as your business was under American jurisdiction, the IRS would go after it's money. Pinning tax evasion on a business alone was useless, as companies can be dismantled and disappear overnight. So, the IRS must charge the <em>owner</em> of said business of tax evasion - regardless of the status of the business. But because this was America, the land of corporate loopholes, a business could own <em>another</em> business, which can be owned by <em>another </em>business. Thus, enters Olivia's favourite thing in the world: shell companies. They are basically ghost businesses that only require a name and an address - not even a full one, a PO box is fine.</p><p>Olivia set up Fangtasia to be owned by a shell company in Delaware, which is owned by another shell company in Luxemburg, and that one is owned by another company in the Cayman Islands which in turn owned by the shell company in Delaware. The full circle is owned by nobody, but they are all controlled by currently Pamela, and hopefully soon, Eric.</p><p>She parked her car in Fangtasia an hour before the club opened as per usual since she didn't want to be around when patrons arrived. The vampire bar-goers who frequented this place gave her the creeps, and the human ones were… Disturbing.</p><p>"In and out." She told herself. "Easy peasy."</p><hr/><p>Eric was in a bad mood. He felt he was playing whack-a-mole these days with the fucking idiots in this town. First, it was Anthony Grey who decided to bite a human in Fangtasia's bathroom - plus getting raided by the cops on top of that. Then, he had to deal with the humans in this hell hole. Starting with the morons in the basement who were caught dealing V while driving drunk. Then, today Eric woke up to the news that some inbred hillbillies torched a nest of vampires killing three of his own kind, of which he managed to catch two. He literally was running out of space in the basement for so much shitfuckery. He swore if he transplanted the brains of these five fucking dimwits into birds, that they would fly backwards. He did not have a <em>moment</em> of fucking peace this week.</p><p>When Eric came upstairs from the basement he saw Ginger restocking the bar quietly. She knew not to make a peep when Eric was in a bad mood. And just as a cosmic fuck you from the universe, Eric noticed a certain someone, wearing a nice cream coloured tight dress, an oversized black blazer and perfectly blown-out hair with dark lipstick, was waiting for him. <em>For fuck's sake, not today.</em></p><p>"No." It's all he told Olivia.</p><p>She got up from her barstool, already holding fucking papers. "It will only take a minute-"</p><p>"I said <em>no</em>," he growled at her, showing his fangs. Ginger ducked behind the bar, shaking. Olivia quietly stood her ground, pouting.</p><p>He just could <em>not</em> do this today. Eric lacked the energy and the patience to deal with this woman. He needed a meal, and he needed a fuck, and to be left the fuck alone. He was halfway across the bar floor, headed to his office when he heard her voice again.</p><p>"Am I to expect ramson?" She asked in her impossibly bitchy tone.</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>He stopped and turned on his heels to look at her. Olivia had the audacity to look pissed and she had a small smirk on her face as if she were looking for a fight. "For the people downstairs."</p><p>"I beg your <em>fucking</em> pardon?" He lowered his voice. <em>How in the fuck-</em></p><p>No. He was getting quite sick of this cunt <em>knowing</em> things about his bar. <em>Knowing</em> things that she shouldn't. Wasn't it enough that Sophie-Anne gave her the power of holding him by the <em>fucking</em> balls? Did she have to rub it in at <em>every fucking turn? </em>Did she not know <em>who </em>he was? Or <em>what</em> he was?</p><p>"I need to know of any upcoming large sums of money. The total is fine, I don't need to know how much you asked for individually."</p><p><em>That was enough.</em> Eric was going to end this game right fucking now.</p><p>"Come with me." He ordered, walking past her and grabbing her tight by the bicep.</p><p>She whimpered and resisted but he carried on, dragging her across the bar, back to where he came from.</p><p>Once she realized where he was taking her, she protested harder. "No! Let me go!" She screamed. "Eric!" she tugged and pushed, clawed at his neck, chest and arm. but his tight grip overpowered her 100 to 1.</p><p>The pair submerged into the darkness.</p><hr/><p>Olivia could not see much once they left the steps illuminated by the bar area. They plunged deep into the dark cold basement, where all she could smell was feces and urine, and mildew. It was freezing cold down here, and Olivia had to stop fighting Eric who dragged her deeper and deeper down the basement, to watch her step. Running away with a twisted ankle would not do.</p><p>She was angrier at Eric than scared. That was until she heard the whispers echoing in the basement. It was fear. Pure, instinctual, unadulterated terror. Olivia closed her eyes and focused on pushing the prisoner's panic out of her head. When people had strong emotions, they could often influence her own. And these poor people were absolutely frightened to death. <em>Of death.</em> Of Eric, specifically. Fear was one of the nastier human emotions to witness.</p><p>They landed at the bottom of the stairs, on solid dirty and wet concrete, and Eric finally let go of her arm, by pushing her forward into the darkness. The stench was turning her stomach. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, it took her a minute to understand what she was seeing. There was an enormous - maybe 6 foot wide, half a foot thick - spur gear attached to the ceiling. 5 sharp spikes protruded from it, straight down, almost touching the floor. On each spike, a man was collared and chained to it. They wouldn't even look up at her. On one of the basement's support columns was a wooden bucket tied to it. She realized it was their toilet, and they had to rotate the heavy gear on the ceiling to use it - one at a time, in front of the others.</p><p>She was going to throw up.</p><p>The men crawled scared on the dirty floor, away from her, shaking and whimpering. Their fear became overwhelming, waking Olivia up. She looked for Eric, who quietly paced around the dark empty basement, watching her reaction. He was a lion, meticulously watching the gazelle's next move.</p><p><em>Focus Olivia.</em> She took a deep breath, slowly. <em>Think of the rules. </em><strong>Rule number 5: </strong>Know where the exits are. She couldn't see any other doors in this place, but the staircase was right behind her, maybe 4 feet. <strong>Rule number 7: </strong>always carry silver. Her silver-tipped pen was inside her briefcase up at the bar. <em>Fuck-</em></p><p>"How did you know about them? How do you know <em>anything</em>?!" Eric asked angrily, from somewhere in the darkness that she couldn't see.</p><p>"I'm an account-"</p><p>"STOP LYING TO ME!" He roared, making the whole place vibrate with the deep echo of his voice.</p><p>The men at her feet started to cry in fear, she had to suppress their loudness away.</p><p>"Vermins," he declared. "Which one of you knows her?"</p><p>No one said a word. In fact, she was pretty sure the prisoners stopped breathing. Eric leaned beside a bearded man who was covered in filthy clothes and grabbed the back of his neck.</p><p>"You. Do you know the pretty lady?" He asked quietly, but the man did not answer. Tears were going down his face, making Olivia's heart sink a little. "Look at her. I SAID LOOK!"</p><p>She could not see much of Eric's face, as it was covered by his long hair. But his fangs glistened in the little light that entered the room. The human slowly opened eyelids, trembling. When he looked at Olivia, she saw a man who was dead inside, long ago. What had he done to these men?</p><p>"I don't!" He cried out.</p><p>With a loud roar, Eric lifted the man's whole body like a ragdoll. The human screamed, and Olivia had to cover her mouth not to do so too. Eric sunk teeth on the man's leg, who flayed like a fish, trying to get loose. Olivia was thankful for the darkness. She could hear bones being crushed and flesh tearing, the man's scream filling her head. Fear and adrenaline flooding her own body. She felt hot blood splash on her stomach and her arms, and suddenly the man went quiet. Eric dropped the body on the floor, near Olivia's feet. He was in pieces.</p><p>She took two steps back, in shock. Legs, arms, half a torso, exposed muscles, bones and guts amidst the torn clothing, no head. A whole person, torn to pieces in a pile a foot away from her.</p><p>Eric emerged from the shadows, stepping over the human he just shredded to pieces. His black clothing didn't show, but the pale skin of his arms and chest and face was covered in crimson blood. His long regal blonde hair was half dipped in red. She knew Eric was about to make her watch five brutal murders until she confessed who she was.</p><p><strong>Rule number 1: </strong>absolutely under <em>no</em> circumstances-</p><p>"Who told you?" His eyes were cold, and blue and looked deeply into her own with absolute fury.</p><p>Eric stepped over the chucks of body parts, and came close, his chest slightly touching her torso. He was again, trying to intimidate her with his monstrous body. Blood dripped from his chin and onto her collarbone. She did not know why, but Eric pressing his body against her did not frighten her. In fact, it woke something rather lively in her: anger.</p><p>"No one told me." She confronted his gaze with her own.</p><p>"How did you know about the raid?!"</p><p>Olivia repeated her most important rule in her head. <strong>Rule number 10: </strong>if you are going to bluff, always double down. "I saw a guy wearing an earpiece. And it wasn't the Bluetooth kind. Plus, I can spot a cop a mile away, can't you?"</p><p>Her dad taught her rule 10. It was by far the riskiest and most nerve-racking to use. <em>Always double down Liv, half-assing it will only get you killed, </em>she remembered her dad telling her this with his large and heavy hands on her shoulders, so vividly.</p><p>"How did you know about the human in the bathroom?"</p><p>"Overheard him begging the vampire to be bitten. Well, he wanted to get laid, I assumed it involved biting."</p><p>"How did you know about the humans in the basement?"</p><p><em>Because you left your fucking bartender in charge of giving them water, and she's terrified of coming down here alone.</em> And fear was about as quiet as crashing a cymbal. Olivia hated to do this, but she was going to have to throw poor Ginger under the bus.</p><p>"I saw Ginger bring them water on Sunday. She took a tray with 5 cups of water and disappeared into the basement, she came back up with 5 empty cups. I figured you didn't have a VIP lounge down here. Not one that served water, anyway."</p><p>"You are lying to me," Eric said calmly as he caressed her hair, spreading warm blood all over it. She felt a shiver of disgust take over her body.</p><p>
  <strong>Rule number 10. Rule number 10. Rule. Number. 10.</strong>
</p><p>Olivia took off her blazer with haste, ignoring the blood all over it, and folded it in half twice before tossing up on the third step of the stairs behind them. She pushed up the long sleeves of her dress and raised her wrists together, up to her eye-level. Eric angrily watched her, but his expression stayed the same.</p><p>"Well?" She asked full of sarcasm. "Are you going to chain me up or not? I see you just made some space."</p><p>Eric slightly smirked, but Olivia didn't think it was because he found her question funny. Maybe Eric <em>did</em> want to imprison her down here and do God knows what with her - but that would go against the Queen's edict.</p><p>"It goes around your neck, actually," the way he looked at her changed. It was softer and enticing. <strong>Rule number 10</strong>, she had to keep going.</p><p>Olivia then gathered all her hair and scrunched it up, exposing her neck. She looked him right in the eyes and waited.</p><p>"Well go on, Eric. I get paid the hour." She dared him, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>
  <em>Do it. Do it you vile monster. Break the Queen's edict and see what happens.</em>
</p><p>What happened next happened so fast it was mostly a blur. All she could hear was bones breaking and screams of agony. The men's fears paralyzed her. Blood exploded everywhere, and this time, she felt actual pieces of guts stick to her dress and legs. She involuntarily stepped back and tripped over the first step, and fell onto it, sitting front row on the world's most gory horror show. And before she knew it, it was over. Silence again. Of all kinds. No more fear, other than maybe her own. Eric had killed all the other four humans. He submerged from the darkness, covered in red, and put his foot on the first step but stopped, looking at her shaking.</p><p>"Do not <em>ever</em> defy me in front of humans again."</p><p>Olivia was too petrified to look up at him when he spoke. Her eyes fixed on the carnage. Eric left the basement, and left the door open behind, letting the bar's light shine on the horrific scene in front of her.</p><p>She lost track of time, but when Olivia managed to walk back on the club floor, it was dead empty. A stack of papers was neatly stacked on top of her briefcase - Eric had signed them. Quickly and without thinking, Olivia grabbed her stuff and ran out. Her mind was in a fog. She didn't even remember the drive home, parking or even getting home. Her mind came back online when she violently threw up in her kitchen sink.</p><p>"Holy shit," she gasped, catching her breath. Only now she realized how much covered in blood she really was. But that was not what worried her the most. "That was close..."</p><p><em>Too </em>close. Everything she had ever endured, everything she had ever sacrificed would have been out of the window, had she broken the most important rule of them all:</p><p><strong>Rule number 1: </strong>absolutely under <em>no</em> circumstances tell anyone you are a telepath.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.: HELLO</p><p>Thank you again so much for all the love and attention this story has gotten so far! I also received some very useful feedback, much appreciated.</p><p>I know OC being a telepath, sassy and smart version of Sookie has been done to death - but Olivia will be the furthest thing from Sookie I can imagine. In fact, this will be an enemies to lovers kind of story which I find oddly lacking in this fandom.</p><p>xoxo til next time</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Pretend We're Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 4: Pretend We're Dead</strong>
</p><p>It had been a full blissful week with no Olivia Carson. No drop-ins, no papers to sign, not even a phone call. Hopefully, another hot flavour of the week that had come and gone. <em>Good,</em> 'cause the human had some particularly distasteful traits, such as being fucking nosy and bringing out the worse in Eric. Pam hadn't seen such butchery in the basement since…. Well, ever. He got so much blood in his freshly highlighted hair, it almost ruined it. Pam had to cut it short. It suited him fine, but Pam was beyond pissed. You don't fuck with Eric's hair, nobody, not ever, is even remotely worthy of damaging his luscious and precious hair. He had an image to uphold for fuck's sakes.</p><p>Unfortunately, Pam knew better. It was only a matter of time until Olivia needed to stir the pot again. <em>Pointing out their vulnerabilities</em>, or whatever the fuck her job was. It was bad enough to have the Queen all up in their business, but sending a <em>human</em> to do it? Silver in the wound.</p><p>The bar was full as usual, still, Eric had yet to make his appearance on his throne tonight. Patrons were getting antsy, glaring at the empty stage, whispering and gossiping. Eric had been holed up in his office all week, it was high time for him to grace the public with his presence. Leaving Daniel, one of the bartenders in charge, Pam headed to the office and opened the door without knocking.</p><p>"Are you coming downstairs or what?"</p><p>Eric was leaning back in his office chair all the way, and only his eyes moved up from the phone in his hands.</p><p>"Godric's missing."</p><p>Pam lost all breath. She quietly closed the door behind her, muffling almost all the noise from downstairs. "How do you know?"</p><p>"Just got a call from the King of Texas," Eric's eyes did not meet Pam's. He was actively avoiding looking at her at all. She knew he was trying to hide his worry. "No one has seen or heard of him for quite a while, and he didn't show up for the last Curia Regis."</p><p>"He would summon you if he were in trouble-"</p><p>"No Pam, he wouldn't." He said annoyed, deepening his voice.</p><p>Pam frowned, worried Eric might do something stupid. He was still unequivocally loyal to his Maker, but the two had a long, complicated relationship. Eric didn't talk about him much, he was still hurt Godric had let him go 300 and some years ago. A pain Pam hopes she <em>never</em> has to feel. Godric and Eric had roamed the earth together for almost 800 years, and he had shaped Eric in ways not even she understood herself. But their relationship had a fatal flaw: Eric was a fierce protector, and he would do <em>anything</em> to protect his family. However, Godric would rather die a horrible death than even consider putting Eric's life at risk. Over time, this caused trite and resentment between the two. Godric refused to be taken care of, Eric hated feeling helpless.</p><p>With humans attacking vampires being almost an every-other-day occurrence, it was very possible Godric was somehow killed or captured. However, it was unlikely - he was almost 2000 years old, which meant if humans did <em>indeed</em> get him, they were either incredibly smart or heavily armed. Godric was the sheriff in Dallas, Texas so anyone with 2 brain cells could guess which one would be more likely.</p><p>A horrible thought popped into her head. "Do you think they captured him for…"</p><p>"His blood? Could be."</p><p>Pam shivered. The older the vampire the more powerful the high humans could get off their blood. The age restriction was the only caveat Eric imposed on the Queen's idiotic plan to allow the - very - illegal buy and sell of V under the Authority's table. No vampire over 100 years old in Area 5 was allowed to sell their blood. It was a secret rule, not even humans were allowed to know about it. But who knew how things worked in Texas?</p><p>"It was only a matter of time until humans developed the taste for mature vampire blood…" Pam sighed.</p><p>Hence why the Queen's plan was idiotic. Eric suddenly stood up with a look on his face that told her everything she needed to know - and Pam didn't like it. "Book an Anubis jet as soon as possible, two passengers. And a room at the Carmilla."</p><p>Pam felt a tinge of excitement. It wasn't often they left Shreveport, and the Carmilla had a <em>delicious</em> all you can eat menu. "Should I call Chow to take over the club for the weekend? He does owe you a favour-"</p><p>"No, Pamela, you're staying."</p><p>"<em>Excuse</em> me?!" Her voice almost cracked. She then realized who was going instead. But before she could protest, Eric was gone.</p>
<hr/><p>Olivia was already in pyjamas, and about halfway down a pint of Ben &amp; Jerry's AmeriCone Dream while watching The Real Housewives of Orange County. Shitty reality TV was her guilty pleasure. Being a telepath, Olivia <em>knew</em> deep down most people were horrible, selfish, greedy, egocentric and insecure. But in reality TV, they didn't hide it. To her, it was the true depiction of how people were: mostly awful. But on TV, at least it was entertaining.</p><p>Earlier Olivia had a nice hour-long chat on the phone with her mother. This week, she missed her mom terribly and had to constantly remind herself that the two get along better when they are apart. Olivia's childhood was complicated. Her mom was a nurse, and her dad was a longshoreman by day, and illegal boxer by night. He was a telepath like Olivia and her absolute hero. The two had an unbreakable bond. He helped her navigate life with her special talent. He taught her how to silence people's thoughts, how not to panic in crowds, and mostly how not to judge people by what they think - although she could really use some more of those lessons. He was a tough man but had the biggest heart. Plus he was the coolest guy. He was a burly man, built like a brick house. Had tattoos all over his arms, and the thickest Newfoundland accent she's ever heard. None of her friends growing up could understand a word he yelled at the TV, or when he spoke on the phone with relatives up in Canada. Her dad eventually learned to dumb-down his accent for the New Jersey crowd. Her relationship with her dad was the most special thing Olivia's ever had. Other than a few cousins north, she had ever met anyone else like them. When she was little he told her only a few of them existed in the world, and he made up stories of how they were descendants of royal fairies, and their lineage was magical, and they had distant relatives in faraway lands, who lived in the most beautiful gardens. He always promised to take her there someday.</p><p>Her world fell apart twice in her life. The first time, Olivia's parents decided to get divorced when she was 4 or 5.</p><p>For years she thought it was because of her. Her mother wasn't a telepath like them. She couldn't answer Olivia's questions, offer her guidance or comfort her with the words and feelings Olivia needed. And to add salt to injury, Olivia could read her mother's pained thoughts. She had carried and grown her own little girl in her own belly, but yet she couldn't be what her child needed. She felt left out, like a stranger watching from the window. Plus, children aren't meant to listen in to every thought their parents have. Her Dad always kept his "mind wall" up, and only let her listen in when he meant for her to listen. And despite him telling her a thousand times to not peek into her mother's head, curiosity always took over. Sometimes, it was just by accident. But the damage was done. She watched their marriage implode in real-time. There was no shield from the emotional fallout. Children aren't meant to hear their parents every thought. Every fear, every worry, every daydream and dark secret. It made Olivia fear her mother's head, and distance herself more and more. After the divorce was concluded, Olivia lived with her dad and visited her mother semi-frequently.</p><p>The second time Olivia's world fell apart was when her dad died of a heart attack in the middle of his shift when Olivia was 16. Her whole world came crumbling down. She had to move with her mother permanently, and after some turbulent and angsty teen years, she left for college and never came home again. That was until her mother got diagnosed with MS.</p><p>Olivia felt scared to go home every holiday now. Every time Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter rolled around, she had to go home and face the fact her mother was dying. Each time, she was a little bit worse. Olivia felt guilty for being so hard on her mom. For being away all those years. Maybe it was out of guilt, but Olivia tried to take care of her mom the only way she knew how. Every month a huge chunk of her money was sent to her mother and aunt. Olivia paid for all the best doctors, all the best treatments, therapies and medications, along with money for groceries and utilities. It cost her probably close to 11 grand a month, give or take. But she had to try to save her. She <em>had</em> to. There was nothing she could do for her dad, she could at least try this.</p><p>When she heard a knock on the door, it nearly sent her soul out of her body. It almost made her drop her spoon and ice cream all over the couch too. She glanced at her phone: almost 10 PM. She lowered the volume of the TV, just in case it was too loud and bothering one of her neighbours. Olivia made her way to the door and opened it.</p><p>Her mind always went blank for a second every time she laid eyes on Eric Northman. This time he looked different - he'd cut inches of his hair, it was now a short-ish blond flow, loosely combed back, which now allowed Olivia to see his full face. He was stunning. Perfect cheekbones, strong jaw and nose, delicate piercing blue eye. He also wore a dark two-piece Adidas velour tracksuit, which was a different look for him. He looked <em>somehow</em> even hotter than usual, but Olivia did not forget who this monster <em>really</em> was. His most memorable look was a blood-covered one, and it was seared in her brain forever.</p><p>"We have a problem." He announced, clearly distracted by her satin pyjamas. Clearly, they were both encountering a different version of each other tonight.</p><p>Those words, however, set off all sorts of alarms in her head. <em>Are the feds on them? Were they charged with anything? Are the accounts frozen? Is there money missing? Had she missed something? How could she have missed something?</em></p><p>Olivia tried not to panic. "What is it?"</p><p>"A friend of mine has gone missing in Dallas. I am afraid he was taken, and I would like your help in investigating his disappearance."</p><p>"I'm… Just an accountant from New Jersey. I follow money, not people-"</p><p>"Stop." He closed his eyes briefly, trying not to lose his temper. <em>That</em> was a first. "We both know you're not just an accountant or from New Jersey. But I am willing to let you <em>keep</em> your little secret, as long as you use it to help me."</p><p>Olivia didn't know what to make of the request. She didn't know the first thing about looking for people, let alone vampires. Had he figured out she could read minds and was playing it cool? He did know she was a flight risk. But how? Eric was ancient, maybe he had met others like her in the past? The thought of being discovered terrified her, but his proposition seemed about as attractive as he was. He would stop fighting her at every corner and just let her use her skills to do her job, without question. It's all she wanted from him, really. She looked at his 6'4'' frame, and he always held an intense look in his blue eyes, like he could see right through her very soul, like he <em>wanted</em> her, somehow. Okay, maybe just his trust wasn't <em>all</em> that she wanted from him, but it was all she would allow herself to have.</p><p>"Okay. I can try."</p><p>"I'll be waiting in the car out front. You have 10 minutes to pack, and pack light. Our jet leaves in an hour." And he walked away, towards the elevator.</p><p>Olivia headed straight to the living room and (sadly) put her ice cream back in the freezer. She tied the trash bag under the kitchen sink and tossed it by the door. Who knew how long she would be in Dallas? The last time she had to take an impromptu work trip, she was gone for 3 months. Olivia quickly changed out of her pyjamas and started packing. She wasn't sure what to take. What does one wear while looking for a missing vampire? Was his friend even a vampire? Eric Northman had <em>friends?</em> She had so many questions, but only time would tell. Everything about this was out of her expertise, but if it gave her a shot at making Eric trust her and stop going on murderous rampages, she had to take it. She would sleep better at night without the blood on her hands...And clothes. And hair.</p><p>She packed some of her favourite outfits, a cocktail dress, her favourite ankle boots and some heels. She put on her favourite rich emerald green sweater dress, black thigh-high boots and threw her hair in a messy pony. Toiletries, hairbrush, wallet, keys, phone, phone charger, laptop. And last but definitely not least, she put on her Tiffany bone cuffs. <strong>Rule number 8: hide your valuables in plain sight.</strong> This would do, in case this rescue mission went tits up.</p><p>There were a few of Fangtasia's and Eric's documents on the dining room table that she hadn't scanned yet (everything else had been shredded and burnt in the kitchen sink). She stapled the papers together and taped them on the inside of the fuse box door. Her favourite hiding place. Rule 8 was her most clever one.</p><p>On her way out, she tossed the garbage bag in the trash shoot and headed downstairs. Eric was waiting for her in a red corvette of some kind (Olivia knew nothing about cars). It was arrogant and flashy, just like him. She put her bag in the indeed, very small trunk (no wonder he asked her to pack light), and entered the car. Eric drove fast, and she definitely felt some Gs on his curves, making her stomach sink. Before she knew it they were on the highway, away from the city, driving deep into the dark country roads. The two sat in absolute silence - not even music. All she hoped was that she wouldn't regret agreeing to this. <em>And</em> that he didn't crash the car on their way to the airport. Out of nervousness, Olivia watching him drive. Maybe it was the car, maybe it was the new haircut, but watching him let the steering wheel turn under his fingers during curves, or push and pull the gear stick, or feel the engine hum at his desire… There was definitely something very hot about it. Or maybe she was learning she was into murderous psychopaths because Olivia clearly had a deathwish - that she knew about herself for a long time. She inherited it from her dad.</p><p>Mostly she hoped gaining his trust wasn't going to bite her in the ass. Because with trust, it was usually a two-way street. And it came along something else that scared her. Something she fought against her entire life, created rules to ensure it would never happen, and she convinced herself she simply couldn't afford to show.</p><p>"I am, by the way."</p><p>"You're what?"</p><p>"From New Jersey."</p><p>And that was vulnerability.</p><p>When they arrived in the small private airport an Anubis jet was already waiting for them in the hangar. The attendant who signed them in was a sweet old lady, who thought Eric and Olivia were a couple, as she called them Mr. and Mrs. Northman. She did not correct her, since Olivia preferred to always fly under an alias anyway. But surprisingly, Eric didn't correct her either. The small jet they boarded was elegant and sleek, not much different from how she usually flew. Eric sprawled on the cream leather couch taking all 3 seats while browsing God-knows-what on his phone. She sat on one of the oversized armchairs facing him, wishing she was back on her couch with her AmeriCone dream. Olivia wasn't particularly fond of flying. <strong>Rule number 5: Know where the exits are.</strong> Well, there are none when you are flying, unless you'd like to die.</p><p>"You're gonna have to calm down," Eric said lazily, finally breaking the silence halfway through the flight without taking his eyes away from his phone.</p><p>Olivia was caught by surprise. "But I didn't say anything."</p><p>"Your heartbeat makes this plane sound like a very monotone EDM rave. You're basically vibrating."</p><p>"Put on headphones then."</p><p>"Why are you so nervous?" He looked up. <em>Where would she even begin? </em>"Do I make you nervous?" He raised his eyebrows.</p><p><em>ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!</em> "Not really."</p><p>"Is it flying?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"The mini bar is stocked, have at it."</p><p>"I don't drink while I'm working." Truth was, Olivia got drunk and hungover very easily. Sometimes she even got hungover from a bag of chips. She certainly didn't have her 21-year-old liver anymore. God knows how quickly she would get wasted while flying.</p><p>"You're billing me for this?"</p><p>"No Eric, I'm going to help you find your friend on a weekend out of the goodness of my heart." She answered sarcastically. "Of course I am billing you for this."</p><p>"Then since I am <em>paying</em> you right now, I am ordering you either chill the <em>fuck</em> out, or I am going to shove alcohol down your throat like I'm making foie gras."</p><p>Eric Northman was an entitled fucking asshole, and Olivia's bar for that was already pretty high considering some of her previous clients.</p><p>"<em>Fine."</em> Olivia spat through her teeth.</p><p>Slapping the arms of her chair, Olivia got up and stomped down the short hallway to the jet's bar. The mini-fridge had a fine selection of top-shelf liquors in shooter sizes, and she recognized a <em>very</em> expensive bottle of Japanese Whiskey. She gave it as a gift to a client once, and the full bottle was 18 thousand dollars. The mini would end up costing Eric at least a couple of grand. And to enjoy her fancy cocktail, she would go all out: ice and a nice crystal glass, if she could find one.</p><p>"So, tell me about your friend," she asked him, trying to distract him from the bottle she chose. "The one we are looking for."</p><p>She started opening cupboards - a jet this nice had to have ice and glassware somewhere.</p><p>"His name is Godric," he spoke in a serious tone. "He's the sheriff of Area 9, and he missed the last court meeting with the King of Texas."</p><p><em>Hm, that was a bad sign.</em> Sheriffs and Kings met near the end of every quarter for tax collection purposes, and a general meeting. <em>Curia Regis</em>, she believed it was called. Not showing up was a <em>serious</em> offence. Olivia kept looking for the damn glass.</p><p>"Does he have any enemies?"</p><p>"About… 40 or so vampires, 3 werewolves, at least 2 different covens of witches, and 1.2 million humans. Or however many live in Dallas."</p><p>Olivia glanced at Eric with a disapproving look. He was watching her curiously, eyes focused on her hips. She turned back around, trying to focus on what she was looking for: glass, and ice. Manuals, peanuts, wine, the pilot's coat, her own luggage, Eric's luggage, the pilot's coat... First aid kit…</p><p>
  <em>You know what, fuck it.</em>
</p><p>She opened the little bottle and downed it halfway when she overheard some concerning thoughts echo in the cabin. <em>Push throttle on engine 2 to idle, check, deactivate autopilot. Now to turn off gyroscopes, where's the cable? Ah, here it is. Good God, what am I doing?</em></p><p>She felt the floor gently incline. She looked at the liquor on the bottle and laid diagonal. What the hell was going on? Olivia leaned against the cockpit door and heard the faint alarm beeps coming from the control panel, but they were quickly silenced with a switch. Now, she didn't know anything about airplanes, but the intensity and fear she picked up from the pilot's thoughts were <em>extremely</em> suspicious.</p><p>"Eric?" She whispered turning around. "There's something wrong with the pilot."</p><p>Eric looked up from his phone, and suddenly he was standing right next to her.</p><p>
  <em>Cut off the fuel supply to engine 2. Now… Pull the yolk back, all the way to the left-</em>
</p><p>"What? I don't hear anything."</p><p>The SEATBELT sign came on. They were still 20 minutes away from Dallas, it was too early-</p><p>"Eric get in there <em>NOW!"</em></p><p>Eric shot her a look of apprehension but knocked firmly on the door. There was no answer.</p><p>
  <em>Shit - shit. They know! They know! Goddam- FUCK! Okay. It's done. It's done. Too late to go back now. The cables are cut - I don't care if she's human, it doesn't change anything. The little fangbanger bitch made her bed when she decided to fuck him. Cunt is gonna get what's coming for her. They all will-</em>
</p><p>"...What?" Olivia muttered. "Sir!" She started banging on the door. "Open the door!"</p><p>"Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Eric demanded.</p><p>"He's trying to crash the plane!" Olivia continued to bang on the door so loud she didn't even hear Eric's fangs angrily descend.</p><p>He gently pushed her away and stuck his hand on the latch. With a simple tug, the whole door came off its hinges. Inside the cockpit, the pilot was halfway strapping a backpack on - a parachute. Behind him, the control panel was blinking like a Christmas tree. The man was pale and sweating like a sinner in church.</p><p>Faster than a blur, Eric grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck and narrowed his gaze into the pilot's eyes. His fangs were inches to the man's face.</p><p>"What are you doing my little friend?" Eric asked the pilot, who was melting like butter under Eric's spell.</p><p>"Crashing the plane into the Carmilla hotel."</p><p>Olivia felt chills down her spine. Eric proceeded. "Why?"</p><p>"Because the world has gone to shit since vampires took over."</p><p>"Who do you work for?"</p><p>"The Lord of Light, and he will burn you <em>all</em>-" But before the man spoke another word, Eric sunk his teeth into his neck, red blood splashed all over the walls and control panel.</p><p>Olivia let out a small scream. Eric twisted his neck and let his lifeless body drop on the floor. A huge gape on the man's neck was spewing blood all over the floor. She looked at Eric Northman in absolute disbelief.</p><p>"What have you done?!"</p><p>Ignoring her, he wiped the blood off his chin and paced around the small cockpit, ducking his head under the low ceiling.</p><p>"Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" She snapped. "Unless you have some hidden skills I don't know about, you just killed the only person here who can land a plane!"</p><p>"He wasn't going to land us, he was going to crash us." Eric pointed at the screen on the left of the pilot's seat. Olivia stepped into the cockpit, avoiding the dead body on the floor. The monitor showed a clear path across Dallas, red alerts flashing on the screen, warning of the imminent collision.</p><p>"He was going to crash us <em>into</em> the Carmilla."</p><p>"What-"</p><p>
  <em>Cunt is gonna get what's coming for her. They all will-</em>
</p><p>Eric sat in the pilot's seat and pulled on the controls.</p><p>"It's not going to work, he cut the control cables."</p><p>"How do you know-"</p><p>"Okay, I thought we were past that?!"</p><p>Eric got up and left the cockpit, towing Olivia out with him by the wrist. "Get your stuff, we are ditching this party."</p><p>"What? <em>How-"</em></p><p>She watched Eric unlock the cabin's door, letting out all the pressure inside the jet with a loud bang. <strong>Rule number 5: Know where the exits are.</strong></p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.</p><p>Hello! Again, thank you for all the love Wicked Games has gotten so far. I'm blown away, really. To answer some questions: yes, I will explain how and why Olivia got involved with vampires, AND how she turned from good accountant to bad accountant. </p><p>And also, I'm not following all the original True Blood plots, just some of my favorites (but I'm turning the heat on them) plus some of my own.</p><p> xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Cannonball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The muscles of her neck and shoulders were one gigantic knot. She could barely move her neck side to side. Even though she was used to wearing heels, her boots were killing her feet. Her bones felt brittle, her body exhausted. Have you ever been so tired your skin felt dry? All she had left was her big purse, and luckily she found a pair of sunglasses at the bottom of it and put them on. She didn't give a fuck it was 2 AM, eye contact was beyond her capability at this point.</p><p>Olivia strutted across the Carmilla's front lobby, trying to put as much space between her and Eric as she could, but the man had 8 feet worth of legs - it was futile - they arrived at the front desk at the same time.</p><p>"Reservation?" The unfriendly receptionist asked, eyeing Eric like candy.</p><p>"Northman."</p><p>The skinny blonde receptionist shot Olivia an odd look. <em>Don't do it, Olivia, don't peek.</em> But she was just too tired to block the woman's thoughts.</p><p>
  <em>Wow, what a wreck. I really wish hot vamps like this had standards. They'll fuck anything these days.</em>
</p><p>"Ah, yes the honeymoon suite." She gave the couple a fake smile. "Congratulations."</p><p>Olivia was close to vibrating when her hoarse voice managed to threaten him. "Eric, it will be a <em>cold</em> day in hell-"</p><p>But Eric was way ahead of her, and gladly he interrupted. "My apologies, my progeny likes to pull little pranks on me," he told her with a kind smile. <em>Fucking Pamela.</em> "Could we switch to separate bedrooms?"</p><p>
  <em>Oh, someone DOES have standards after all. I am definitely signing up for the menu shift tonight.</em>
</p><p>"Sorry," her smile grew wider and faker. "We are pretty much booked. I have a two-bedroom suite-"</p><p>"I'll take it."</p><p>
  <em>Still, why do vampires like him drag white trash like her? I swear I will never understand.</em>
</p><p>Sometimes it took an extraordinary effort to not slap some people right on their mouth. <em>Be the bigger person Olivia</em>, she could hear her dad say. If she had full mobility of her neck and shoulders, Olivia probably would have smashed the receptionist's head against the counter, but alas, she didn't. Where was her award? Again, with her fake smile, the receptionist pushed the key cards across the desk, Olivia took one and immediately left for the elevators. Three seconds later Eric joined her inside. As it went up, she leaned against the wall and tried to rest her neck against it, but pain shot down her column, making her whimper in pain.</p><p>"You have whiplash," Eric told her, glancing at her over his shoulder.</p><p>And he was probably right. After they discovered the pilot was trying to pull another 911, Eric did what he did best - killed the pilot by turning his neck inside out. With the plane's controls jammed beyond saving, the vampire had the fantastic idea of jumping out of the plane. It was either that or the parachute attached to the corpse. Needless to say, Olivia had no skydiving experience. She thought it was a joke at first but then watched Eric open the airplane's door, depressuring the entire cabin at once. She had to grab onto the cockpit's door frame in order to not get sucked out from the cabin. She watched Eric jump out first without her and disappear into the night. Air rushing, alarms ringing, she could feel the plane's nose slowly diving forward. She truly thought she was going to die right then and there.</p><p>Suddenly, there was a ball of light outside and a deafening bang. The plane jolted to the right, knocking Olivia to the floor. Eric casually stepped right back into the plane, from the void outside. He strolled back to their seats and grabbed her purse, and tucked his cellphone into his pocket. He acted totally normal, cool and collected as if their jet wasn't on fire, with a door open and headed straight to the ground. He walked towards her and stretched out his hand.</p><p>"Ready?" He asked with a smirk. It's like he <em>enjoyed</em> seeing her scared. "It's either me or the dead guy's parachute."</p><p>She took his hand, and he embraced her whole torso with his large arms and pulled her tight against his chest.</p><p>"Put your arms around me and don't let go," he asked, looking at her in a way only he could. She complied, trusting him. And what happened next was a whirlwind of extreme noise, falling, cold, and darkness. Their exit of the aircraft - which Eric managed to dodge the flaming engine he destroyed, so the plane wouldn't collide with the Carmilla - was less than graceful. She felt like she was inside the spin cycle of a broken washing machine. Olivia could see the city lights on the horizon violently spin before everything came to a halt, mid-air. Eric could <em>fly</em>. Olivia had no idea vampires could even do that. The two watched the airplane dive into the dark ground, and crash into what seemed to be a cornfield. Still holding her tight against his chest, he gracefully carried them both to the edge of the city where they took a cab to the hotel.</p><p>And now the vampire glared at her with his pretty icy eyes, taking pity on her mildly injured mortal body. <em>Maybe I should have chosen the parachute.</em> "I'm fine."</p><p>"I can heal you-"</p><p>"I said I'm <em>fine</em>." <strong>Ruler number 4:</strong> <strong>no vampire blood. </strong>She had broken this rule before, and it was decidedly not worth it. Olivia still sometimes had dreams about <em>her</em>.</p><p>But never mind that, she could not <em>wait </em>to wake up tomorrow and spend a whole day alone in Dallas, maybe hit up the spa and get a massage under Northman's credit card. When they finally arrived inside their elegantly modern room, Olivia plopped onto the cream suede couch and unzipped her shoes, sliding them off. The relief almost made her moan out loud but she held back. She slowly laid down, letting her body rest. After a minute of silence, she opened her eyes, just to see Eric Northman watching her with his hands tucked into his pockets from across the room. She couldn't make up what his expression was, but she didn't care.</p><p>"I've asked one of Godric's house servants to bring over his laptop in the morning, maybe it will be helpful somehow. Tomorrow night we will meet with the other Sheriffs and get all the details of Godric's disappearance."</p><p>"That's fine." She reached for the room service menu on the coffee table, struggling to raise her arm.</p><p>"There won't be any human food in there," he warned her.</p><p>"Of course," she sighed, defeated. This was a menu for <em>vampires</em>. You could pick their gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity and blood type, but not a single normal food item. "Eric, if I don't get french fries in the next 30 minutes, I will absolutely lose my shit."</p><p>"I'll call reception and make sure you're fed. What do you want to eat during the day?"</p><p>"Tomorrow? I can just go out for food-"</p><p>"You are not to leave this room until I rise tomorrow."</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"I had my suspicions Godric was taken by someone powerful, and the pilot who tried to kill us confirmed it. I need you to stay close while I'm asleep."</p><p>The sheer absurdity of those words gave her the power to sit back up. "I'm not sure who you <em>think</em> I am, but I'm not your little pet, Eric!"</p><p>"Oh no," Eric smirked, slowly pacing around the living room that adjoined their bedrooms. "That is <em>exactly</em> what you are. You were gifted to me by the Queen to take care of. What do you call that?"</p><p>Olivia's jaw clenched in anger, she could feel her blood pressure rise. She was far too tired for this shit. "No-"</p><p>"Yes, actually. And the Queen told me to... What was it? <em>Handle you with care</em>, because you are delicate-"</p><p>"<em>Fuck you,</em> Sophie-Anne didn't say that."</p><p>"And if you got even so much a scratch, she would <em>personally </em>rip my balls off. It's on her edict-"</p><p>"I won't tell her you made me jump out of a fucking airplane if that's what you're worried about. I'll just book a massage at the hotel spa and we'll call it even."</p><p>"Do you even know how <em>rare</em> it is for a vampire monarch to write an edict of protection at all, let alone for a human?"</p><p>Losing her patience, Olivia stood up and stepped towards her room. "Look, I didn't <em>make</em> you drag my ass to Dallas to look for your friend, okay?! If you knew something shady was going on and you asked me to come anyway, that's on you!"</p><p>"How did you know about the pilot?" His voice echoed behind her.</p><p>"I thought we weren't doing this anymore."</p><p>"We are." Eric dashed across the room and blocked her way towards her room. "And until I understand what exactly the Queen is asking me to take care of, I'm going to keep asking until you fucking answer me. I'm about to step into uncharted territory here, looking for Godric in a place I have no authority, fighting enemies I do not know, with vampires I do not trust. I can't focus with you as my blindspot."</p><p>There were a million different ways she could tell him to go fuck himself, but she realized there was nothing to gain by it. Pushing this man's buttons only ended with destruction, and she was not here to test how far that edict of protection was going to stretch. His chest was inches away from her face, his gaze towering over her. Having Eric stand so close awoke something dark inside her.</p><p>"You only think I'm your blindspot because your ego is so big I could climb it, jump off it and kill myself. The Queen <em>assigned</em> you as my client, not as a punishment to you," her voice was becoming brittle. "But as a punishment to <em>me."</em></p><hr/><p><em>Oh my, oh my. What did you do my little swan?</em> Olivia's hair was on the wrong spectrum of a messy ponytail, and she had mascara smudged under her eyes. She walked like a little robot, neck and shoulders so stiff she could barely look up at him. But still, her heartbeat was strong, relentless, unafraid of him. Her unwavering strength was admirable. Regardless, Eric had never met anyone who didn't crack sooner or later. He just had to find out what made her tick, and he had some theories to test. <em>What did you do?</em> <em>What is your secret? What are you being punished for?</em></p><p>"I'll tell you what," he could barely contain his smirk. "Have my blood, and you can have the whole Hotel."</p><p>She took a step back, looking offended as if he just called her a bad word. "Absolutely not!"</p><p>"It's for your protection, Olivia. If you are bound to me, I can sense your fear. I'll be able to wake up and find you. It'd be dumb to think someone who's willing to crash a plane into a building wouldn't try to hurt you while I'm asleep. Or do you really think that pilot was working alone?"</p><p>"Nuh-uh," she nodded. "No can do. It's against the rules."</p><p>"Whose rules?"</p><p>She stepped into her bedroom and was about to swing the door closed. "My rules. Rule number 4: no vampire blood."</p><p>Eric put a foot on the door frame, stopping it. His fangs came out at once, there was something intrinsically exciting about hunting prey. He pushed the door open without much force. "It's just a drop, it will wear off eventually. Plus it will make you feel better-"</p><p>"Not interested, I know about the fine print."</p><p>The fine print was probably the best part. The bond, the tracking the high, the intense dreams she would have. He would live rent-free in her subconscious, what more could he want? Olivia ran across the room, but there was no place for her to go unless it was through him. She threw a lampshade at him from the top of the dresser, which he smacked down with his forearm and it loudly shattered against the wall.</p><p>"Get away from me!" She demanded.</p><p>The next second he had Olivia pinned against the wall. Her smell was taunting him. Her perfume was good, but what lied underneath was hypnotic. He could smell the sunshine on her lightly tanned skin. He wished he had a taste of her back on the first night they met when he didn't know who she was. Raid be damned, he should have taken her neck in the alleyway. Now that he knew, it was too late. If he played his cards right maybe someday she would offer. His right thigh was between her legs, raising her feet off the floor. His forearm pressed strongly against her chest. She pushed his shoulders and arms away with no success. Not physically, but Olivia Carson had a hell lot of leverage on him. She knew everything about him. All his accounts, his properties, businesses, legitimate and not. It was nice having power over her, even if it was just for a minute. Thinking of it, he should have done this ages ago.</p><p>"Let me go, right this instant!"</p><p>"I will, once you've had a taste."</p><p>"I'll stay!" She cried. "I'll even barricade the fucking door. I won't leave!"</p><p>She <em>really</em> did not want this. He wondered what made her create this little personal rule. Whose blood did she have?</p><p>"Something tells me you aren't the obeying type," Eric bit down on the flesh at the base of his thumb and she looked at him wide-eyed at the sight of his blood. Having her squirm under his grip was surprisingly not as satisfying as he wanted it to be. "This is the only way I can make sure you're safe, Olivia." He pushed his palm against her lips.</p><p>She scrunched her face, tried to move her head, but her whiplash didn't allow her neck to turn. His blood worked immediately. Eric felt a full-body shiver take over him. He felt <em>her</em> like he never did with anyone before. Part of him was now a part of her. He was inside her veins, taking over every part of her body. Not even Pam at her turning felt this loud and clear. This blood bond was somehow special. He should have <em>definitely</em> done this ages ago. Still kind of stunned he stepped back, letting Olivia go. She can't be glamoured, she magically knows things, her scent, now this….</p><p>
  <em>What are you?</em>
</p><p>She spat out all of his blood that she could and wiped her face clean with her sleeve, but it was pointless. It was done. Her body and neck relaxed, her pupils dilated. She probably felt invincible right now. He wondered how much she liked it. With a swift motion, she slapped him in the face, hard. <em>Oh, </em>she liked it alright. It was <em>too</em> good, really. He smiled, pleased with her anger. Toying with her made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. The look of pure rage on her face right now was… Priceless. Just when he thought she could not get any hotter.</p><p>Eric made his way out of her room, trying not to grin too hard. "Dawn is almost here, so I'll now retire for the day. You should get some sleep."</p><p>She glared at him with a curse in her eyes. A different type of wrath. "You're going to pay for this. And that's not a threat, it's a promise."</p><p>He could feel her plotting retaliation. He was looking forward to it. Eric only played games he could win. "Sweet dreams, Olivia."</p><hr/><p>It was 7 AM, and the sun was rising outside. Olivia refused to go to sleep out of sheer spite. She felt alive with anger and bitterness for having broken rule 4. Having Eric's blood inside her was bad enough, but she would not - COULD NOT - tolerate the thought of having intense sexual dreams with that blond tall monster - that's what he was. He may be the hottest man Olivia ever laid eyes on, but on the inside, he was one ugly and despicable psychopath. That's how she wanted to think of him, for as long as she possibly could.</p><p>Plus, his blood gave her the energy of at least three pre-workout drinks. She felt electric and wired, like a 21-year-old trust fund kid on spring break in Cabo with an eight ball of coke in their pocket. Invincible. She found an EDM music station on the large plasma TV and she absolutely blasted it - like on volume 100. The furniture was shaking. Eric's bedroom door remained shut, so she continued. She had a dance party for one, dancing on the coffee table, the couch, all over the living room. Olivia even took off her sweater dress, she got so sweaty. She absolutely loved dancing, especially alone. It felt like pure freedom - the one time she didn't have to worry about keeping everything and everyone in control. Her mind went clear, and she just focused on the music.</p><p>Once that got boring, she took a shower to clean the sweat off. But then Olivia remembered she lost her poor luggage. Her favourite outfits, and her favourite cocktail dress, all burnt and scattered across a cornfield somewhere. She frowned for a moment, putting her sweaty sweater dress back on when she had an idea. She headed downstairs to the front desk. This place was dead quiet, much different than it was when they arrived last night. During the daytime this building was basically one massive mausoleum. Before any of the receptionists could roll their eyes at her, she asked. "Who would like to make a thousand dollar tip today?"</p><p>The two women looked at each other, curiously. "How… Can we help you?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Olivia was halfway through her hot stone massage up in her bedroom when there was a knock on the door.</p><p>"Oh, is it lunchtime already?" Olivia raised her head, expecting to see the hotel service room maid with the trolley, but it was just a young man holding a briefcase.</p><p>"There was a delivery at the desk with explicit instructions to be given to you, and only you. They mentioned a laptop, I think…"</p><p><em>Right</em>. Godric's laptop.</p><p>"Thank you, just leave it on the coffee table," she said with a sigh.</p><p>Olivia had to cut her massage short and send the very attractive masseuse away, as duty called. She wrapped herself in the hotel's fluffy robe and sat down on the couch, opening Godric's laptop, while admiring her fresh new manicure.</p><p>It prompted her for a password. Right. Olivia went through her old purse, tossing all its contents all over her glass coffee table, looking for her keychain. On it, there was a USB pen with dark software that she used to crack into people's computers all the time. If she was nearby, her telepathy allowed Olivia to overhear anyone's password when they logged into their computer - also worked for any password, every time people texted or looked something up online. It was a blessing sometimes, but mostly a curse really. But there were plenty of occasions she had to get into someone's computer without their knowledge, or more specifically, a vampire's computer. So Olivia bought this little USB pen from the darknet last year when she started working for the non-living. The small black box popped up on the screen and it ran the code, trying multiple combinations. The process usually took a couple of hours, sometimes way longer for a strong password.</p><p>Olivia then kicked back and turned on the TV, picking A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila. Maybe getting the massage was a bad call, or maybe this show was just boring, but she could feel herself getting dangerous sleepy. Maybe the effects of Eric's blood were wearing off… She could only wish because she knew what followed the high. The dreams. The nasty, vivid, fantastic wet dreams.</p><p>But, the stars were on her side today, because someone else knocked on the door. When she answered, 4 hotel staff entered holding shopping bags upon shopping bags, and suddenly she was awake again with a magical Christmas morning feeling. Olivia had used Eric's credit card as she had planned to do: she had ordered expensive room service breakfast, gotten a mani-pedi followed by a hot stone massage, all while she had paid some of the staff to go out shopping for her at Highland Park Village. Now she found herself surrounded by at least 2 dozen shopping bags. Olivia knew exactly how high Eric's credit card limit was, and she was going <em>all the way</em>, baby. She had yet to meet a man she couldn't hurt through his wallet.</p><p>"Would you like these in your room ma'am?" The bellboy asked.</p><p>"Living room is fine." Olivia wanted to make sure Eric would know about her shopping spree.</p><p>The staff left the bags in the middle of the room and left, so she could peruse her new clothes in peace. One of the bitchy receptionists had decent taste, at least. She got Olivia some Fendi jeans and blouses, a Dior dress, three stunning Jimmy Choo shoes, an Alexander McQueen jacket, some Cartier jewelry, a darling Celine purse and a full face worth of Chanel makeup. Plus a bottle of Chanel No. 5, as requested. Oh, and Dolce &amp; Gabbana undergarments. Much sexier than she needed for the weekend, as Eric would <em>never</em> see her in these personally. But some other lucky person would, hopefully.</p><p><strong>Rule number 17: never buy your own designer clothes. </strong>Don't be a fool.</p><p>She put on her fancy new clothes and sat back down on the couch when the computer finally beeped: the password had been found. In white letters it read:</p><p>
  <em>NeiLeitaRáðaMér</em>
</p><p>She had no clue what it meant, but the uppercase letters and symbols alone were the reason it took forever for the software to crack. Nevertheless, she started looking. Browser history had been wiped. Passwords were deleted, files showed nothing of importance. Emails were mostly in languages she did not recognize or understand.</p><p>"Hmmm…"</p><p>Eric would not be happy with no answers. She tried his browser again, the history had been deleted but the cookies had not. <em>BINGO.</em></p><p>Cookies were small pieces of data left by websites in order to remember information about users, like their logins, what they searched or purchased.</p><p>"Now let's follow the crumb trail..."</p><p>Olivia went deep down the rabbit hole, retracing Godric's electronic footprints. There was a lot of ground to cover, and at first, she was unsure how it all fit. But then a specific website made her remember something: the jet's pilot. His anger. His insane plan to crash their plane into this hotel. And most importantly:</p><p><em>Lord of light</em>.</p><p>She clicked on the website the cookie was from. She was confused. Could this be it? Why would Godric- "Holy shit."</p><hr/><p>Eric rose the next night feeling content and refreshed, and particularly hungry. His sleep was uninterrupted, which meant Olivia managed not to get herself in trouble. He wondered how well <em>she</em> had slept. Oh, he could only wonder what delights she dreamt about with his blood running wild in her veins. Was it romantic? Or rough, with bondage and whipping? She would make the most decadent submissive lover.</p><p>After he showered and got dressed he stepped out of his room and was caught by a surprise. At first, he thought he picked up Pam's scent, but his progeny was nowhere near- she wouldn't dare disobey him by coming here and leaving Fangtasia. No, what he smelled wasn't Pam, but the smell of brand new fresh designer clothing and indeed, the living room was covered in dainty and crisp expensive bags of various sizes. He knew Pam wouldn't disobey, but Olivia…</p><p>He could hear her in her room. One thing at a time. "How was your sleep?" Eric called out, looking forward to her answer.</p><p>Olivia stepped out of her room, looking better than he had ever seen her. She wore a single shoulder skin-tight black dress with a wide and high slit on her left leg, held together by 3 small golden rings. Stiletto boots made her legs look incredible. Olivia was certainly taunting him - she knew he could not harm her, and the things he wanted to do to her would <em>certainly </em>require consent.</p><p>"I didn't sleep. Do you like it, though?" She asked with the sexiest smile, even tiptoeing a 360 so he could take it all in.</p><p>He knew this was too good to be true - there had to be a catch. How did she get all this? "I thought I told you not to leave the hotel."</p><p>"I didn't," she said, her smile melting him. She sat on the arm of the sofa, crossing her legs. <em>Her legs</em>. "Your credit card did."</p><p>Hold up. Eric looked around the room again, reading the shopping bags. Fendi, Dior, Chanel… He could all but hear the sexy illusion shatter like glass right in front of him. Eric left his credit card number at the desk, could she have... No… No, she fucking did not. "You did… What?"</p><p>"I keep my promises, Eric. I told you you'd pay for it - and you did. For all of it." She adjusted her long, perfectly smoothed hair, spreading her golden honey-dipped scent everywhere. It was both divine and torturous. And he would not stand for it. No human bitch would walk all over him like this.</p><p>Before she could react, he stepped almost on top of her and made her get up by grabbing her by the jaw. His fangs grazed her cheek. Eric was not one to control his rage and this time she had gone <em>way too fucking far</em>. Olivia's heartbeat spiked again, but she did not show any sign of fear. In fact, her lips cracked a smile between his fingers.</p><p>"<em>Stop</em> testing me, Olivia." He snarled, his voice dropping low. He could feel her blood rushing beneath her warm soft skin under his fingers, tormenting the hunger he felt so deeply. "I can make that little piece of paper protecting you disappear. Then, who's to say what I'll do with you."</p><p>"You won't do anything to me." Her audacity irritated the ever-living shit out of him, which only made him want her more.</p><p>"Why's that?"</p><p>"Because I know where Godric is."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.</p><p>hello bonjour!</p><p>Love writing this Olivia versus Eric, I swear it's so much fun! Many of you are excited for Godric, I am too. As for his fate, you'll have to read on. If you know my stories you know everyone is fair game though, I gotta keep you on your toes somehow ;)</p><p>Thank you for all the love, XOXO til next time</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. City of Angels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eric walked Olivia from the car to Isabel's front steps. Isabel was part of Godric's nest and had been since the mid-1700s. She was a Spaniard, and the granddaughter of the revered Queen Isabel I of Castile. Isabel knew how to navigate courts and influence monarchs like the back of her hand. When Godric got posted as the Sheriff of Area 9, way back when Dallas wasn't much but dust, Isabel came with him. It was her who asked the King of Texas to call him the night before and tell Eric of Godric's disappearance. It was rare for Sheriffs to leave their respective Areas, usually it only was done so under a monarch's or Authority's request. Eric couldn't help but naturally distrust her. Godric was missing for weeks unnoticed? Isabel tells him to come and he walks right into a suicidal pilot's trap? No, no, no, <em>something</em> was up.</p>
<p>Eric placed his hand on the small of Olivia's back and felt her shiver under his fingers, straightening up her column. "<em>Be nice</em>," He whispered into her ear, trying not to inhale her scent. His hunger was growing, and not being able to drink her was starting to get under his skin.</p>
<p>"I'm always nice," she replied with a smile, but her eyes were pure malice. It almost made him regret bringing her to Dallas at all.</p>
<p>Their arrival was met by a house staff, who took the pair to the formal living room outback. Isabel's place was modern, with tall bright ceilings, asymmetrical walls and a contrasting colour palette of cold whites and warm stone. The whole back of the house was made out of glass, looking into an elegant, polished and well-lit garden, much different than his own. Already waiting for them were Isabel and Stan. Stan <em>fucking</em> Baker, this prick was still around? He was also part of Godric's nest and Eric didn't particularly care for him. The guy had the personality of dollar store bagged ice and exuded a particularly empty cocky arrogance. Which usually means there was no cock to be arrogant about. Isabel's face lit up when she saw them enter the room.</p>
<p>"Thank you for asking the King of Texas for my assistance, Isabel," Eric stated but he quickly discovered she was not exactly happy to see <em>him</em>, per se. "Everyone, this is-"</p>
<p>"Liv!" Isabel sighed with a smile, almost as if she were relieved to see - <em>Liv?</em> "Oh, I'm so glad it is you and not Northman's sourpuss progeny!"</p>
<p>"Isabel! It's so good to see you!" Olivia smiled, as she hugged Isabel. <em>What the fuck?</em> He wanted Olivia to play nice, but not <em>this</em> nice.</p>
<p>They hugged and kissed on the cheek. He found their general female happiness was tiresome. "I take it you two know each other?" Eric asked.</p>
<p>"Yes, we met at Queen Sophie-Anne's annual white party last year."</p>
<p>"Her what?" Stan grunted, but Eric vaguely shared the sentiment.</p>
<p>Queen Sophie-Anne threw a lavish white themed party every winter where she only invited women. Pam always attended, but she was not allowed to say what happened at those parties - Vegas rules and such. Eric just assumed it was a large lesbian orgy and thought nothing else of it. But he was intrigued that Olivia was also a guest, he always presumed humans in attendance were only the meal. Pam never mentioned meeting Olivia before, and she had a talent for remembering names and faces. And tits.</p>
<p>"Alright, if you two are done eye-fucking each other, can we get this going?" Stan asked, annoyed.</p>
<p>"What are you doing accompanying Mr. Northman?" Isabelle asked, looking concerned. When did Isabel grow <em>feelings</em> all of a sudden?</p>
<p>"I am his accountant." Olivia told her in her usual preppy-happy voice. Never in his life, he had met someone who actually <em>bragged</em> about being a fucking accountant.</p>
<p>"Eric, you brought a human? Have we really stooped that low to bring our pets while travelling?"</p>
<p>"Fuck off Stan," Eric growled. "Olivia figured out where Godric is in a day while you had your hands up your ass for the past week."</p>
<p>"You have?" Isabel exclaimed turning to <em>Liv</em>.</p>
<p>"I believe he was taken by the Fellowship of the Sun," Olivia told them in her regular pitchy voice.</p>
<p>Stan visibly scoffed while Isabel's eyes widened. "Liv, are you sure? How do you know this?" Isabel asked, visibly confused. Clearly, the Church's name rang a bell with the two.</p>
<p>"Well, I cracked Godric's computer and he had done deep research on this Church-"</p>
<p>"So Godric's found God or whatever, that doesn't mean anything." Stan rebutted.</p>
<p>Olivia continued. "<em>And</em> our jet's pilot who brought us here from Shreveport just so happened to try to crash our plane into the Carmilla while praising the <em>Lord of Light</em>, who is-"</p>
<p>"The savior of the Fellowship of the Sun," Eric added.</p>
<p>"That's right," Olivia agreed. "We made the plane crash into a cornfield instead, so it only looked like a freak accident. The police doesn't even know why the plane crashed yet, but they published the pilot's name: Marc Sheldon. I did some digging in the guy and he has been a member of the Fellowship since last year. If they managed to infiltrate Anubis and planned to pull a 911 against vampires, kidnapping a sheriff is not that far off."</p>
<p>"Well," Stan paced, deep in thought. "They do have the manpower-"</p>
<p>"But they are freaking amateurs, it doesn't make any sense," Isabel protested. "How the hell did they capture Godric? He's two thousand years old-"</p>
<p>"Being old don't make you smart," Stan mocked. Eric was becoming very close to punching him in the fucking face.</p>
<p>"I don't buy it," Isabel shook her head. "Coincidence is not proof."</p>
<p>"There's no such thing as coincidences!" Stan bickered. "I say we take these fanatics down. Full-on organized attack, leave no trace behind-"</p>
<p>"Are you dumb?! If we annihilate an entire vampire-hating congregation who do you think they'll blame first?!" Isabel shrieked.</p>
<p>"Who cares?! We need justice."</p>
<p>"Justice for what? We don't even know if they have him or if they've done anything to him!"</p>
<p>"Isabel, it's the <em>Church</em> we're talking about here. What do you <em>think</em> they've done?"</p>
<p>"Don't use Godric to justify your little larping fantasy, Stan."</p>
<p>"Plus, I doubt the Authority would approve of you ruining their entire international political agenda. Especially when they are trying to pass the Vampire Rights Amendment." Olivia added.</p>
<p>Hearing what might have become of Godric already made him feel ill, but having Olivia speak Vampire Authority political lingo snapped something in him so profound not even he knew where the anger came out from.</p>
<p>"You two really had no idea where's been all this time?!"</p>
<p>"No! Why do you think we called you?" Isabel cried.</p>
<p>"What the fuck has happened to Godric that he surrounded himself with such incompetent morons?! He's been gone for <em>weeks</em>! AND YOU CLOWNS WAITED FOR WHAT?!"</p>
<p>"Don't you raise your voice at me, Northman!" Isabel crossed her arms. "This is not your territory, you have no voice here! Asking you to come was a courtesy call."</p>
<p>"Yeah, <em>Sheriff</em>. If you cared so much, where the fuck have <em>you</em> been for the past three hundred years?</p>
<p>Eric lunged across the living room and confronted Stan, growling at his face. Stan hissed back, his fangs were barely something to brag about. Much like his dick. "Are you seriously questioning my loyalty?! Don't you know who I am?!"</p>
<p>"All I know is that you left!"</p>
<p>"Quit being children, you two!" Isabel grunted annoyed."Liv is the only one who has found a clue so far, so let's focus on that, shall we? Olivia, could you show me exactly what you found?"</p>
<p>"Sure," Olivia had brought Godric's laptop with her in her purse, and she quickly opened it on the dining room table.</p>
<p>"This is a waste of time," Stan grunted again, moving away from Eric. "We need to get in there and take all of them out! Pre-emptive strike. Tonight! Show them what happens when you defy us!"</p>
<p>"Will you shut the fuck up? This is not the time for a power play!" Isabel yelled.</p>
<p><em>My God, I'm surrounded by fucking imbeciles.</em> Eric then noticed the device was password protected. "How do you know the password?"</p>
<p>"I used a software to crack the password, it's gibberish but I wrote it down," she reached further down in her bag and took out a Carmilla napkin with something scribbled on it. He recognized the words in her perfect handwriting. Eric got closer to read it, to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him.</p>
<p>
  <em>NeiLeitaRáðaMér</em>
</p>
<p>Eric's heart sank to his stomach. This detail changed <em>everything</em>. Eric abruptly grabbed Olivia by the arm with one hand, the laptop and the note with the other. "We are leaving." He announced.</p>
<p>"Eric!" Isabel called out from the dining room.</p>
<p>"You two are fucking useless! Attack the church or don't, I don't care." He shouted, not getting out of the house as fast as he would like because of Olivia. For once she didn't protest or fought back but walked <em>so very slow</em>. Damn her for being so goddamn short.</p>
<p>He shoved her into the car, slammed the door and got in the driver's seat, turning the key right away.</p>
<p>"Will you stop dragging me around like a ragdoll?! What the hell was that?!" Olivia almost gasped, adjusting her short dress which had ridden dangerously high in the heat of the shuffle.</p>
<p>"Godric wasn't taken." Eric did a half-moon reversing out of the driveway and driving down the street away from Isabel's house as fast as the rental Porsche would accelerate.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" He could feel her pretty eyes on him batting her eyelashes, confused.</p>
<p>"His password," Eric said, trying to organize a million thoughts racing in his head. "It's in Old Norse, it's a message for me."</p>
<p>"What does it say?!"</p>
<p>"Don't come looking for me."</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Oh <em>yes</em>!"</p>
<p>Olivia adjusted on her leather seat, trying to find a more comfortable way to face a direction that wasn't forward. They were back at the Carmilla, sitting in the hotel's bar. Eric was sitting across from her, fangs deep into a tall brunette who moaned very, <em>very</em> loudly. If Olivia closed her eyes, she could swear there was porn playing on the TV. But no one else in the bar even batted an eye. Everyone was here for the same reason: blood and cheap thrills.</p>
<p>"Oh...<em>Ooohh-"</em></p>
<p>Her white wine was almost untouched. It was way too sweet for her taste, which was a shame because she picked the most expensive one they had. To avoid the live foreplay theatre happening in front of her, Olivia tried to read the minds of all the humans around her. Unfortunately, there weren't many, and the ones who were around were the freaking menu - like this tall lady Eric was feasting on. This was basically Fangtasia but in a classier package.</p>
<p>"Hmmm...That's it-"</p>
<p>Every time Olivia would glance at the two, she could see Eric's eye peeking at her, and he smirked the entire time. It was almost as if he liked making her uncomfortable. It wasn't even the bitting really, or the blood. Or how he leaned against her body and grabbed her with both his hands - one around her hip and the other around her neck, firmly but without hurting. No, it was that this lady had some <em>really </em>nasty dirty thoughts that were so freaking loud. Olivia knew of all the things she wanted to do to him, <em>and</em> of all she wanted him to do to her. She had a very... Interesting imagination which made <em>Olivia</em> picture all of it in her head. It's like the goddamn dreams she was about to have, happening in her head while she was still awake. Eric's gaze on her didn't help.</p>
<p>"Oh my God don't stop!" She shrieked.</p>
<p>Olivia couldn't help but roll her eyes at the absurdity of it all. Eric then pushed the lady to the side, much to her disappointment. "What's wrong Mr. Northman? Are you not having a good time?"</p>
<p>"I'm full," Eric put money on the small table beside his seat and leaned back, licking his lips clean. "Off you go." He motioned for her to leave.</p>
<p>Pouting, the woman took the money and left stomping her high heels. The blue balls on her were pitiful, but definitely a bit hilarious. "You could have at least waited for her to finish," Olivia muttered, taking another sip of her nasty wine. "She was so close..."</p>
<p>"I'm sure she was," he placed his ankle on his opposite knee, crossing his leg. "There's not much fun these days, feeding on the willing."</p>
<p>But of course, Eric Northman would rather play with his food. She remembered how he easily pinned her against the wall last night and force-fed her his blood. How took complete control of her with so little effort. The look of hunger and lust in his eyes was very real, and they did something to her. Something she didn't like.</p>
<p><em>Stay on task, Olivia. </em>"So what do you want to do?"</p>
<p>"Well, if you <em>are</em> offering-"</p>
<p>"I mean about your friend," she corrected him. "Do you want to leave Godric alone like he asked, or do you want to go with Stan's plan?"</p>
<p>"Neither. I'm not leaving until I know Godric is safe. And whatever can be formulated by Stan's two brain cells is always the wrong choice."</p>
<p>She remembered how heated things got between Eric and Stan. <em>Where the fuck have you been for the past three hundred years?</em> Why would Eric go through all this trouble just to find someone he hadn't seen in 3 centuries? What kind of friendship was this?</p>
<p>"Eric," she hesitated for a moment. "Who's Godric?"</p>
<p>Eric looked away, with a cold expression on his face. He quietly answered after a while. "He's my maker."</p>
<p>Olivia's eyes widened. Maker-progeny relationships were usually complicated. Vampires were often turned against their will, then forced to become minions of their makers, and endure all kinds of cruelty. Makers have a mysterious power over them, a strong emotional leash on the vampires they make. Or at least, that's what Olivia had been told. She couldn't picture anyone who could have possibly turned Eric against his will. Had Eric let go of his humanity because of time, or because of his maker? Olivia couldn't picture what the monster who made this monster could possibly be like. Maybe it was best that Godric was left unfound?</p>
<p>"Why have you been apart for so long?"</p>
<p>"It doesn't matter."</p>
<p>"Did he release you?"</p>
<p>He finally looked back at her, and it was a dark look she hadn't seen before. "Don't use words you don't understand-"</p>
<p>"Then tell me. If you've been gone for three hundred years if he released you and doesn't want you to come looking for him, why are we still here?"</p>
<p>Eric looked away again, slightly pursing his lips. The way he loosely looked at the people around him reminded her of a lion again. The same lion who sat at the throne in Fangtasia. Always watching, preying. This time for an exit - he clearly did not want to speak of Godric, but she felt she had a right to know. "Do you love him?"</p>
<p>"Now don't use words <em>I</em> don't understand."</p>
<p>He did. Eric still loved his maker.</p>
<p>"How about this-" Olivia leaned forward. "I go pay the Church a little visit and see what I can find out. Tomorrow is Sunday after all, the pastor should be around."</p>
<p>"You really think <em>you</em> can infiltrate a Christian church?" He looked at her from head to stilettos with judgement. "<em>You</em>?"</p>
<p>"I've done worse for less," Olivia took another sip of her wine and then finally put it down, giving up on it.</p>
<p>"I won't be able to help you if they find out who you work for, not if you do this during the day."</p>
<p>"I used to work for the Mexican cartel, I <em>think</em> I handle a Church, Eric."</p>
<p>Eric sat still for a moment, brows raised, eyeing her with that odd expression on his face again. "I don't think I can afford you, Olivia Carson."</p>
<p>She laughed, unsure why her face felt hot all of the sudden. "Oh, you definitely cannot."</p>
<p>"But Sophie-Anne can?"</p>
<p>His question threw her off, dulling her smile instantly. "Yes. I'm still on her payroll, aren't I?"</p>
<p>"What happened between you two?"</p>
<p>Olivia would need a hell lot more alcohol for this conversation, and this sugar-ridden poison wasn't going to cut it. "Accountant-client privilege."</p>
<p>"That's not a thing."</p>
<p>"Yes it is," - <em>it was actually.</em></p>
<p>"Which one of your rules is it?" He smirked, happy that he had gotten under her skin.</p>
<p>"It's not mine. It's federal and state law."</p>
<p>"Right, because you totally follow those."</p>
<p><em>Touche. </em>"Eric, don't make me regret helping you," she warned him. "I better head upstairs. I have a whole lot of reading on Church Tax laws to do," Olivia said getting up. This conversation was headed to a place she did not want to go.</p>
<p>"Sounds boring." Eric rose to his feet, standing a foot away from her, wearing his usual all-black outfit and a black leather jacket that really framed his wide shoulders. <em>Christ, he is so-</em></p>
<p>"It is," she told him while feeling him follow her.</p>
<p>"<em>Perhaps it will even put you to sleep</em>," he whispered right into her ear. She felt goosebumps on the nape of her neck.</p>
<p>"Oh <em>whatever</em>," she scorned. "They are just dreams, I'll barely remember them two minutes after I wake up."</p>
<p>Eric gave her the most devilish smile. "If you say so. I have to check in on Pam. Have a good night."</p>
<p>Olivia rode up the elevator alone, still wearing the goosebumps Eric gave her. But they were forgotten once she sat back with her own computer to read up on Church Tax law. It was indeed, pretty dry stuff. She hadn't read anything about it since third year of college, years ago. She could feel herself getting sleepy not even five minutes into it. She started writing down notes to keep her body occupied. Eventually, she got into the rhythm of it, and information started flowing into her brain. She started writing down strategies she would use with the-</p>
<p>"What are their names again?" She asked herself.</p>
<p>Steve and Sarah Newlin, the heads of the congregation. She started reading everything she could about the Fellowship of the Sun - it was a very elaborate cult, and she was shocked but not surprised at how many people ate this right up. Their membership numbers were insane. She jotted down different strategies she would use to get her inside. The Fellowship had significantly increased in members and infrastructure in the past six months after the death of its founder Theodore Newlin. He was one of Texas' biggest televangelists until he died in a shady car accident along with his third wife (?) and youngest child. The new leader of the Church was Theodore's oldest son Steven and his trophy-looking wife Sarah.</p>
<p>Steve and Sarah both had very punchable faces and a nauseatingly <em>love story</em> posted on the Church's website. High school sweethearts, soulmates, blah, blah, barf. Maybe Olivia was jaded from two failed engagements and swore to never seriously date again, but these two were on a whole other level of cringy couple.</p>
<p>Desperately needing an eye cleanser, she looked at their public business records. Accounting firm listed: Hess-Cannon &amp; Associates Chartered Accountants. Olivia rolled her eyes. She remembered these clowns from a National conference three or four years ago.</p>
<p>She sent a quick email to a hacker she often used - some person in Russia named Volac, and within 10 minutes she was in Hess-Cannon's servers. "God bless the Constitution," she muttered to herself while making some strategic adjustments.</p>
<p>Because the first amendment clearly states freedom of religion, the IRS is forced to take a very hands-off approach to religious institutions, which isn't what they are usually known for. That made the business of religion the biggest tax haven on earth. They don't have to worry about plebeian federal, state or local taxes, or that pesky FTC looking over their sketchy business practices. And Churches basically function like a business: the pastor is the owner, the congregation are his employees, and their members are the customers (who believe they are the stockholders but aren't, really).</p>
<p>And of sketchy business practices, the Fellowship of the Sun had no shortage of. To start, the Newlins had 3.8 million dollars of Parsonage allowance, a 1.2 million dollar Estate.</p>
<p>"What the fuck am I doing laundering money?" <em>Clearly</em> she was in the wrong profession.</p>
<p>Olivia was so focused on writing the final notes of her strategy she didn't even hear Eric come in.</p>
<p>"You're still up?"</p>
<p>Her eyes left the screen to look up at him, who stood across the room again with his hands in his pockets. "It's only 2 AM, I don't usually go to bed until 3."</p>
<p>He lazily shifted his weight on his feet. "I was going to leave this on your nightstand, but I might as well give it to you now." Eric approached and sat right next to her on the couch.</p>
<p>Olivia's body went stiff. <em>Intense</em> things happened whenever Eric got this close. <em>Too</em> intense. She felt extremely aware she had his blood in her. Eric pulled a small gold chain from his pocket and held it on his open palm. It was a dainty necklace with a small simple cross pendant. "It might help you blend in."</p>
<p>Olivia didn't know how to process this. Was this Eric showing… <em>Kindness?</em> Could he possibly be worried she might get hurt investigating this Church during the day when he can't leave the Carmilla? No, it can't be, there had to be a catch. There was always a catch.</p>
<p>"Uhm-"</p>
<p>"Turn around, let me put it on you," he asked.</p>
<p>She hesitated. He could read it all over her body language and face. Was this what… His trust looked like? All she wanted was for him to stop fighting her, and it appears… This was it. Olivia did a ¼ turn on the couch and pulled her hair to the side, exposing the back of her neck. She felt the pendant brush her collarbones and then hang flat against her sternum. Eric's cold fingers lightly touched the back of her neck, giving her goosebumps again. She had to remind herself this was the first time he had gently touched her at all, and it was because his ass was on the line.</p>
<p>"There. A good Christian girl." Eric said with a small smile.</p>
<p>"Err... Thanks. I'll be attending mass tomorrow at 4 PM, then meeting with the Newlins at 6 PM for supper. I've emailed you their addresses. Sunsets at 8:10-"</p>
<p>"If you aren't here when I rise tomorrow, I'll head over immediately and put an end to-"</p>
<p>"No! Actually, just… Wait outside until I come out. You'll know if I need you. No need to blow my cover unnecessarily."</p>
<p>"Right," he nodded. Having his trust felt weird. He must really want his Maker back. She got this bad cold feeling in her stomach. What would happen if she failed? "See you tomorrow."</p>
<p>He was three steps away from his room when Olivia called him. "Eric!" He half-turned, looking back at her. "You do know he might not be there, right? Or that he might be..."</p>
<p>The softer Eric then vanished with the blink of an eye. "Make it one of your rules then."</p>
<p>"...To find your Maker?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Olivia."</p>
<p>She couldn't fight the feeling of disappointment that the Eric she worked so hard to get was nothing but an illusion. "My rules are more for… Self-preservation, I don't see how..." Her voice trailed off.</p>
<p>Eric pondered for a second before staring dead into her eyes. "Exactly."</p>
<p>Olivia swallowed drily, feeling her own blood - his blood - chill inside her. She had been threatened before, many times. But it was never like this, never inside her own body. It just dawned on her right then of the extent of the trouble was in. Eric Northman was a thousand year old vampire whose blood ran in her veins. He was inhumane, manipulative and had power over her like no other creature ever has. What would happen if she was wrong? What if Godric wasn't at the Church? Or what if Godric left his nest and did not want to be found? Or what if he were dead? What would Eric do to her then?</p>
<p>She felt a dark cold overtake her. The silence that filled the room made vastly clear. Do this, or <em>else</em>. She had a pit in her throat as she spoke. "Rule number 37… Find Godric."</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.:</p>
<p>HELLO everyone, here's another chapter hot off the press. I got crazy busy in the past couple of weeks and had no time to write :(</p>
<p>Shout out to dirtygoldensoul on FFNet who noticed the Chapter names are rock songs! I read somewhere the True Blood episode names are country gospel song titles, and I thought it would be neat to do the same for this story. So I chose female lead punk/rock songs not only because I like the genre, but I think it's a cool juxtaposition to how I'm writing Olivia. She is bad-ass, yes, but also she's very controlled, calculating and secretive in order to hide the loudness of who she really is.</p>
<p>I hope to post again soon! Just gotta get some plot points in order first :P</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Until next time xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lethal Lolita</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning sky was light blue casting a bright gleam from above. She found herself alone between tall stone columns of the ancient bathhouse. The hot steam danced and fluttered above the hot water spring, enveloping everything it touched. The turquoise green water bubbled lightly, causing ripples in the otherwise still water. Her skin felt hot from the bath. Liv ran her fingers through her hair one more time, feeling the warm water run down the curve of her back.</p>
<p>Suddenly a pair of ice-cold hands brush against her hips. His hands were unmistakable. Large palms, long fingers, skin pale like milk. They didn't sit on her hip bones for long, as his fingers made their way to the top of her thighs, as his body moved closer against hers. His chest was firm against her back, his arms embracing her fully. Carefully, he placed a soft kiss on the right shoulder, but inside herself, there was nothing soft about it. It rippled, not like the bubbles on the water, but like a tsunami - powerful, unforgiving, unhesitant. The want that washed over her was absolute.</p>
<p>She crumbled in his arms, leaning against him. Both plunged lower in the water, sinking down to her collarbones. She sat on his left thigh, his lips travelling up her neck, his fingers travelled between her legs. Liv felt the sharpness of his teeth brush against her earlobe as he pulled her closer. Her heart rushed, flooding her with lust everywhere he touched.</p>
<p>He finally pulled her closer, deeper into his lap as if he could not have enough of her. She could feel the hardness between his legs. He wanted her. She <em>needed</em> him. Liv turned and finally faced him.</p>
<p>Eric looked deeply at her eyes while she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her bare wet body against his. Reading her mind, their lips touched. Their tongues melted together, their bodies held each other like their lives depended on it. His hands held her hips firmly and guided her down, slowly pushing himself inside her. Olivia moaned, feeling his -</p>
<p>Olivia woke up with a deep gasp as if she hadn't breathed in 2 full minutes. She was alone in her Carmilla hotel bed, sweating, heart racing. She stared at the ceiling quietly for a minute, reeling on the dirty dream she just had. She was wide awake with adrenaline, the mind automatically replaying the fading dream. <em>It wasn't real.</em> It felt real, but it wasn't. She shared her luxury hotel bed only with her laptop and her notepad, exactly like had she usually did. The subject of her dreams was currently dead two rooms over. Olivia didn't have to check with her fingers - she knew she was wet. The middle of her panties felt soaked - that was real.</p>
<p>"No…No! No! No-" she rushed to the bathroom and quickly turned on the shower on the coldest water setting. She took her pyjamas off in a hurry tossing everything to the corner and hopped in, containing a squeal of shock once the borderline freezing water hit her warm skin. She immediately grabbed the soap and started scrubbing herself violently, trying to clean her body off the dirty dream.</p>
<p>"Disgusting," she cried out to herself. She felt absolutely filthy. Olivia reminded herself of who he really was - the monster in the basement, dripping in blood after committing the violent murder of five men. But she also remembered the feeling of <em>wanting</em> him, and it all made it worse. "DISGUSTING!" Olivia yelled out again.</p>
<p>She felt furious. She should have never come to Dallas! <em>FUCK</em> his trust, fuck this hotel, fuck the designer clothes, fuck his blood and FUCK Eric Northman!</p>
<p>But not like that.</p>
<p>Olivia was in a sour mood all day and to rub salt in the would - she had to go to Church today. To Sunday <em>mass</em>. <em>UGH!</em> Olivia's family wasn't particularly religious, they only went to Church when she was little because her mother made her - and she always hated it. People tend to bring some pretty disturbing thoughts to Church, it was far too overwhelming for her as a kid. Couples questioning their marriage, people praying for their gayness to be cured, a mother's guilt for birthing a disabled child, the ugly shame of a man who had beat his wife again. Pill problems, alcohol, cheating, lying, stealing, gambling, debt. It took her dad a lot of arguing to convince her mother to stop making Olivia come. With time, she learned how to (mostly) block thoughts in situations like these, but the damage was already done. She learned really young what sinners looked like and the truth was: they looked like just anybody.</p>
<p>Later in the day, she arrived at the Fellowship of Sun. It was this enormous and beautiful Church just outside of town. The ceilings were 40 feet tall with multiple grand glass chandeliers. The aisles were endless, this place could fit easily 500 people. The altar was simple: a long white stone table and a single Bishop's chair with rich green velvet upholstery. Behind it was this blue and green stained glass window art that reminded her of towers of crystals. It mesmerized her - the grandiosity, all the different hues of the colours, the light coming through it... It was probably the biggest stained glass window she had seen in her life. Olivia didn't even know they made things like that anymore.</p>
<p>But back to work. <strong>Rule number 5: know your exits.</strong> She studied the whole blueprint of this place, and the exits seemed to <em>mostly </em>match. The main Church hall had 2 exits, one to each side of the altar, plus the entrance. The grand foyer had four other doors: one to the Fellowship's daycare (with four exits), the events hall (with two exits), the admin office (one exit). There were <em>a lot</em> of windows in this place, so if they were keeping a vampire captive, it would not be anywhere public. There was an extra door in the foyer which was locked, which she had assumed from the blueprint it led to stairs going up to the mezzanine where the organ was, but she was wrong. Those stairs were in the Church hall. So her current bet was that those stairs led <em>downstairs</em>, and judging that floor wasn't included in the website's blueprint, it was her leading clue for <strong>rule 37</strong> to be fulfilled. She <em>had</em> to find Godric.</p>
<p>As people strolled into the Church and took their seats, Olivia did so as well, sitting in the very back, trying to avoid eye contact with the crowd rolling in. Time to raise the mind-</p>
<p>
  <em>I haven't seen her before. Is she Tessa Dotson's daughter? I thought she was knocked up-</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, there's Marsha. Damn. I gave her my number and the bitch never called me back. Do I go talk to her? No, man don't be such a pussy-</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wow, look at Linda and Paul! They look so good... Almost too good? Why does Linda's hair always look so freshly done? Paul don't make that much money-</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Can't believe I'm missin' football for this, if the Broncos lose again I'll never recover in the fantasy league-</em>
</p>
<p>Raise the <em>mind</em> wall up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There. That's better. She was getting rusty working strictly with vampires and not having to 'raise the shield' the entire time. Vampires were mostly psychopaths but the silence was comforting. Having to be so guarded sometimes became exhausting. That and… No one was <em>meant</em> to hear everyone's thoughts. Some may think it's a blessing, but it was most definitely a curse. Soon, the place was flooded with people. Aisles were full of men, women, teens and elderly grandparents, all wearing their little Sunday's best (and that was judgement, from the little she allowed herself to peek). In a shiny golden suit, entered from stage left: Steve Newlin. At first, she thought the guy was wearing a costume but no, the pastor was <em>truly</em> wearing a golden suit, with a white shirt and golden tie to match. When he reached the bottom of the altar he gave his wife Sarah who also wore a matching golden dress an awkward kiss. <em>Were these people for real?</em></p>
<p>The sermon was cringy at best. Steve talked about our purpose on Earth and how they were all soldiers of God. How light was His first creation and how it protects them against evil. As Newlin spoke he got increasingly passionate, and the crowd got more and more effervescent.</p>
<p>"And on Friday night our Fellowship suffered the loss of a dear soldier, as many of you might have heard about, and knew, of course, Marc Sheldon-" The pilot? <em>Oh, here we go. </em>"Marc was an absolute inspiration to me. The man knew a loss much deeper than mine. See, my daddy - may he rest in heaven - was killed by the demons the media called vampires. But Marc…"</p>
<p>Steve Newlin stopped pacing and looked down for a moment. Was he trying to… Cry? Olivia looked around her and saw women in the crowd getting teary.</p>
<p>"Marc Sheldon was a Fellowship <em>hero</em>. He is getting the welcome he deserves in his Lord's Kingdom for what he's done!" The crowd cheered and cried. "Marc lost <em>everything</em> to vampires! He was a lost soul who found his purpose as a Fellowship soldier!"</p>
<p>"YEAH!" Men in the crowd rallied.</p>
<p>"And now he's been rewarded by <em>His</em> light! Let us praise Marc, and live in his light with prayer."</p>
<p>Everyone raised to their feet and Olivia followed. They all started loudly singing a hymn along with the organ which vibrated throughout the walls. Olivia did not remember Church being like <em>this</em>. It was creepy and weird and deeply unsettling. Marc Sheldon tried to crash a plane into a building in downtown Dallas. Sure that would kill maybe hundreds of vampires, but there were a <em>hell</em> lot of humans in there too. This place was the perfect breeding ground for vampire-hating humans, fueling the fear they already had. Still, these people seemed rather naive and harmless.</p>
<p>She thought of Eric Northman. The bloodied Eric in the basement. The one who invaded her veins with his blood. The one who poisoned her dreams. The Eric Northman who made her be here in the first place.</p>
<p>Maybe… They were right to be scared?</p>
<p>"My brothers and sisters," Steve continued, shushing the crowd. "I understand these are uncertain times. Every night me and my beautiful wife Sarah watch that despicable vampire on television-" the crowd interrupted with a boo and cries of anger. He was referring to Nan Flannagan. She was like… The most controversial woman on television since Monica Lewinsky. "I know, I know. Brothers and sisters, we must remember God has created light on His first day! It was so important, so <em>crucial</em> for the universe it was the <em>very</em> first thing He created. His light created life, His light created love! His light is His presence! Do not let these parasites in the media poison your minds. Do not believe vampires are our brothers with different labels - that they are just like us! These demons in human disguises and their puppets revel in watching us live in fear!"</p>
<p>The crowd went ballistic. "We will not fall for the lies of vampires! We know our worth, we know our God we know His Holy light!"</p>
<p>"Kill the vampires!" Someone in the crowd shouted, and soon they were all chanting. "Kill the vampires! Kill the vampires! Kill the vampires!"</p>
<p>The passion and emotion they carried in their minds and hearts as they shouted was real, pure and unadulterated hatred. These were not empty war cries - they truly meant it.</p>
<p>"Kill the vampires! Kill the vampires! Kill the vampires! Kill the vampires!"</p>
<p>Olivia started to think they weren't so naive as they looked.</p>
<p>Maybe… The vampires should be scared.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Olivia approached the long driveway of the Newlin's mansion as the sun was starting to dip behind the trees. She passed the perfectly landscaped shrubs and lawn that surrounded the Ranch style mansion. A security guard in uniform approached her car from the gate, which made her roll down her window immediately.</p>
<p>"Name?"</p>
<p>"Hess. I have an appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Newlin for 6 PM."</p>
<p>"Hess from…?"</p>
<p>"Anne Hess, from Hess-Cannon &amp; Associates Chartered Accountants."</p>
<p>"Oh," he frowned. "What happened to Frank?"</p>
<p>Frank Owens was their actual accountant at the firm, but tonight dear old <em>Anne</em> was going on a fishing expedition. The Newlins won't even know what happened until she is long, long gone, hopefully with Godric in tow. Olivia could hear something coming from the man's earpiece, and he instantly signalled her to head up to the end of the driveway towards the house, letting her through.</p>
<p>While she parked, she had her cellphone on her lap, the recording app ready to go. "I'm Anne Hess, and I consent to this recording," Olivia spoke as she tucked her cellphone in her pocket. Texas Wiretapping Law required one party to consent being recorded in order for it to be evidence valid in court. <strong>Rule 13: always have legal standing blackmail material.</strong> As she stepped out of the car, she immediately recognized Sarah and Steve, already waiting for her from the top of their front steps. They muttered things to each other as if they were rehearsing something. As soon as she approached them they turned on their Television Smiles. It was a bit unsettling how fake these people were.</p>
<p>"Miss Hess! Welcome!" Steven cheered.</p>
<p>"Hello, hi," she shook both of their hands. "Call me Anne."</p>
<p>"I'm Sarah Newlin, Steven's wife. Are you George's daughter?" She had a very nice southern twang in her voice which Olivia liked.</p>
<p>"In the flesh," Olivia smiled. She had met George Hess once at a Gala, he was a handsy drunk. She was shocked he made it so far without sexual harassment lawsuits. But then again, settlements and NDAs exist. Most things aren't illegal, they just cost money to do it. While Olivia hadn't met Anne, she was listed as an accountant in the firm, as nepotism in the industry was something of pride. The correct term, of course, was <em>family business.</em></p>
<p>"Well come on in!" Sarah insisted. <em>She's a bit too pretty to be an accountant. What a waste of a wife</em>, she thought.</p>
<p>Olivia was a single woman approaching her 30s and this kind of thinking no longer phased her. She got enough of it from her own family to numb her to it.</p>
<p>Their house was stunning inside, but she didn't expect anything less after seeing their tax statements. The couple led her to a large living room, where they all sat on shiny leather couches. Sarah and Steve sat across from her, wearing more 'toned down' clothes, but still in matching outfits that made them look like they came straight from the nearest country club. Olivia slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and placed it on top of her briefcase, hoping it would catch any shady information these two dumb wits might spill.</p>
<p>"I don't mean to be rude, Miss Hess but… What's this all about? Frank has been our accountant since..." Sarah looked at her husband waiting for him to finish her sentence.</p>
<p>"Gosh, since my dad founded the Fellowship, some 15 odd years ago-"</p>
<p>"I'm not sure if you heard of the unfortunate news, Mr. and Mrs. Newlin, but Frank is on medical leave."</p>
<p>Their faces froze in a half jaw-drop. "You don't say?"</p>
<p>"Almighty! Poor Frank! Is he okay?" Sarah's high-pitched voice made it sound as if she were to faint.</p>
<p>"Yeah, well… You know cancer..." Olivia nodded, pretending to be sad.</p>
<p>"Oh, no! That's awful news! Just awful." Sarah was borderline crying. "Oh, honey, should we visit Frank and his family? Call maybe? Oh, I know! We will hold a group prayer on Tuesday-"</p>
<p>Steven leaned forward on the couch ignoring his wife completely. "And you are taking over Frank's accounts, I gather?" <em>A woman? They sent a freaking woman to take care of my fucking money?!</em></p>
<p>Whoop, there it was. "Not entirely, just his high-profile clients. My father wouldn't trust anyone to take on the Newlin's who didn't have the calibre that you deserve."</p>
<p><em>We're really high-profile clients? I do like the sound of that - </em>Sarah thought. Olivia didn't like it, but it appeared sucking up their asses would be the only way to get something out of them.</p>
<p>"And you do?" Steve asked distrustingly. The guy was still hung up on the existence of her vagina, apparently.</p>
<p>"My name <em>is</em> on the door, Mr. Newlin." <strong>Rule 10: if you are going to bluff…</strong></p>
<p><em>What an odd thing to be proud of. I'll never understand career women,</em> Sarah thought.</p>
<p>"Of course," Steve nodded in agreement. "Well, I can't wait to work with you in the meantime, Anne."</p>
<p>"Pleasure is all mine. I actually attended your service today-"</p>
<p>"You did? What did you think?"</p>
<p><em>A hateful brainwashing cult - </em>"It was so enriching, so brave! Truly eye-opening. I never really thought of His light that way..."</p>
<p>"You really think so?" Steve asked with the first true smile she had seen today.</p>
<p>Olivia thought a bit more of his Hitler-esque speech at the end of mass. "I truly do not understand why the media allows vampires a platform to begin with!" Olivia continued.</p>
<p>"Money!" Steve answered right away. "Money and greed. It gives them views, it gets them money and it's all they care about."</p>
<p><em>A bit rich, coming from him but ok - </em>"Despicable!" Olivia snarled. "And that poor pilot who crashed that's been all over the news? My heart sank when you mentioned he was part of your Fellowship."</p>
<p>"Oh, I knew Marc <em>personally</em>, Miss Hess-"</p>
<p>"That poor, <em>poor</em> man." Sarah Newlin interrupted. "I'm helping his mom with his funeral arrangements…" <em>Since</em> <em>his cunty ex-wife won't have anything to do with honoring her late husband and father of their child. But what you can expect from a divorced woman? Clearly, she doesn't honor her vows-</em></p>
<p>Yikes. "What about his family? How are they coping with such a tragedy?" Olivia asked, hoping Sarah would say the word cunt out loud.</p>
<p>The couple looked at each other awkwardly before Sarah continued. "Well, unfortunately, Marc and his family were separated because of a vampire's cruel curse."</p>
<p>"How come?" Olivia asked curiously.</p>
<p>"About a year ago, Marc had an argument at a bar with a vampire demon, and he made Marc forget his wife and daughter existed through a glamouring curse. When he went home and found strangers living in his house-" Sarah stopped, tears flooding her eyes.</p>
<p>"It was a nasty situation," Steve said, patting his wife's back, Sarah still fighting a total breakdown. "Things got a bit heated, and his wife called the cops on him."</p>
<p>"That's terrible," Olivia muttered.</p>
<p>"Yeah, his ex-wife doesn't believe in the wicked power of vampires and refused to believe he had been glamoured. She swore if Marc really loved them he wouldn't have forgotten, somehow. The guy lost everything in the divorce. It was wicked."</p>
<p>Sarah loudly wept, making a hurtful echo across the house. "I'm sorry!" She tried stopping herself. "I just can't believe a vampire could be so cruel to make a father forget his own daughter!"</p>
<p>Well. Marc Sheldon sure as shit had a motive to strike against vampires. But what did this have to do with Godric?</p>
<p>"Vampires are not people, Sarah," Olivia said, trying to console the woman. "They are monsters who prey on good people. They take advantage of our sins to destroy us from within. Lust, greed, vanity, pride…" Olivia couldn't remember the rest of the sins, but they got the gist.</p>
<p><em>They take advantage of our sins to destroy us from within… I like that. I'm gonna use that, </em>Steve thought. "She's right, Sarah." Steve agreed. "And that's why I must stop them."</p>
<p>Sarah finally stopped crying, but her mascara was already running everywhere. Olivia narrowed her mind into the blonde's and got a glimpse of a large bonfire at dawn, with blue and green light.</p>
<p>"Yes, we are." She agreed with her perfect smile, wiping the tears away. <em>We are going to burn them all.</em></p>
<p>Olivia's internal alarm rang. Both Sarah and Marc used the same words - <em>we are going to burn them all</em>. That, plus Sarah's memory of a large bonfire at dawn made her think they were speaking literally.</p>
<p>"The Fellowship is going to stop vampires?" Olivia perked up, hoping she had kissed enough ass to make their thoughts slip and give her something more concrete. But she wasn't expecting what followed.</p>
<p>"Yes, we are. One of the Fellowship's roles is to actively support any efforts of justice against vampirical crimes-"</p>
<p>"Vampirical crimes?"</p>
<p>"Glamourings, turnings, feedings, rapes, death and the destruction of families. We seek justice for the lives vampires routinely destroy."</p>
<p>Sarah, now composed, spoke. "We give them to God. And it is <em>beautiful</em>, Anne. You really should come to our light celebrations. It happens on the first Sunday of every month, but we are hoping to do it every Sunday someday."</p>
<p>"We gather all the vampire monsters we can and hold our Light celebration. We watch our God do what he does best. We watch 'em burn." Steve said with a feeling of euphoria.</p>
<p>"It's right at the Church, last month we had 3 vampires meet the sun, and it was so beautiful! The way they burned right in front of the stained glass window was absolutely magnificent, I swear you can feel God's presence all around you!"</p>
<p>Olivia was confused for a second. She didn't even have to read their minds - why were these people confessing? "I would love to…"</p>
<p>"The next one is next weekend, and we only got one vampire so far, but Steve and the boys from Church camp are going to Oklahoma this week for more!"</p>
<p>"Oh yeah, baby! It's open season!" Steve shouted all excited.</p>
<p>"Sorry, why Oklahoma?"</p>
<p>"Oh, this one is interesting. You see, vampires organize themselves in these feudal-type systems. They have their own little areas they care of-"</p>
<p>"Right." Olivia was at the edge of her seat.</p>
<p>"And they watch out for vamps in their own little squares. But if you take vamps from <em>other</em> areas, they just assume they left town."</p>
<p>It wasn't <em>completely</em> correct, Dallas just happened to be near the border. It was more like vampires didn't communicate past state lines. All sheriffs in a state very much talked amongst each other, and directly reported to their own Monarch. Kings and Queens, however, usually avoided each other for the most part.</p>
<p>"For creatures so old, they ain't so clever, are they?" Sarah joked.</p>
<p>"And… How do you know if they committed crimes?"</p>
<p>"Oh Anne, don't be silly. They are <em>vampires</em>. They are guilty by their very existence. They aren't God's children and they don't deserve to be here." Sarah explained calmly.</p>
<p>Olivia's heart was beating a mile a minute. They basically just described how human trafficking worked. The church was kidnapping and murdering vampires from other regions. That meant if they only got vampires from Oklahoma, then Godric was <em>not here</em>. Does this mean some other Church from another State hunts vampires in Dallas? It meant Godric would be <em>far, far</em> away from here. And if he was gone for weeks…</p>
<p>"That is <em>truly </em>impressive Mr. and Mrs. Newlin. Wow! I had no idea the Fellowship did… All of this. Does this mean another Church in Oklahoma hunts vampires here? So you keep each other safe?"</p>
<p>"Yes, actually we have two congregations who hunt vampires in Northern Texas. Lord of Light in Texarkana, and Lakemont in Shreveport," Steve mentioned, which made Olivia's blood boil. We came out all this fucking way when Godric could have been in Shreveport this whole time?! "Though I doubt they ever made it as far as Dallas. They probably get all the vampires they need in Longview or Paris. I think Dallas vampires are a bit out of their league. Marc Sheldon and I were working on a side project to remedy that, with the plane crash and everything."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" She asked, trying not to feel horrified by what she was hearing.</p>
<p>"Well... I know it's not particularly <em>Kosher</em>, but Sheldon was a skilled private pilot who intended to crash the aircraft at a strategic location, rather than a cornfield. We were going to destroy an entire <em>nest</em> of vamps - the Carmilla hotel."</p>
<p>The Newlins weren't confessing - they were <em>bragging.</em></p>
<p>Olivia had heard enough. The pastor and his wife were co-conspirators to terrorism, and she had it on tape. But she was still missing her main goal. "And how many vampires do you plan to use for your celebration next week?"</p>
<p>"Well, we already got one. A scrawny little stray who surrendered." Steven said as if it were a hilarious joke. In his mind, he clearly pictured a jail cell in the Church's basement.</p>
<p>The domino pieces were falling faster than her mind could follow. <em>Don't come looking for me.</em></p>
<p>"Oh my Goodness, look at the time! You must be starvin', Anne, let's eat!" Sarah said joyfully getting up.</p>
<p>Olivia looked at the time: one hour until sunset. As she followed the Newlin's she quickly texted Eric to let him know she was on the right track. The plane, the pilot, the Church, the basement.</p>
<p>One hour. In one hour this would all be over.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Eric stood quietly on top of a tree-lined hill, watching the Fellowship from afar. Men walked around the gardens, lazily dragging crossbows between the buildings. Churches used to be grand palaces, it took decades to build it as they laid each stone, carved each plank and blew each glass pane by hand. They were designed to be masterpieces to honour their Gods. But the compound he found himself staring at was quintessential modern human: large enough to make up for this lack of originality, and cheaply built.</p>
<p>The men who guarded the place wore Walmart grade camo and fleece, packs of smokes rolled up on their sleeves, dirty college football flex cap and unshaven neckbeards, not too different from the Hillbillies in Shreveport. They were the kind of men who spent a lot of time bragging about defending America, but couldn't even run a mile to save his life, let alone actually fight. They were truly pathetic.</p>
<p>He was still waiting on Olivia's signal, whatever that may be. She sent a short text earlier claiming the Newlins were hiding something but did not describe what, or where, or why, nor replied to any of his subsequent texts. For a woman who always had something to say, she was really quiet since they last spoke the previous night. Eric did not awake once through their bond, either. He was relieved, but a bit disappointed at the same time. For whatever reason, he wanted to feel her.</p>
<p>"Fancy seeing you here," he recognized the voice, and instantly felt glad she came alone, without <em>Texas Stan</em>.</p>
<p>"Is this it, Isabel? That's the army Stan wants to fight?" She shyly smiled, taking the notice of the scared little bible boys wandering the parking lot. "I could take them alone as a <em>human</em>."</p>
<p>"Oh, I believe you. Godric has told me the stories of the grand Viking warrior of the North. You were quite the fighter, even before your turning. Godric found great honor in you."</p>
<p>Eric's chest tightened. And yet somehow, his Maker was supposed to be here? <em>Don't come looking for me. </em>What the hell was he doing? This entire time Eric feared he was being held captive by junkies for his blood. But a Church? Historically speaking that would be 10x worse but in this day and age? He was skeptical.</p>
<p>"Don't underestimate them though. Support for their movement is growing everywhere. Why do you think Nan Flanagan looks like she's about to have an aneurism at any second?"</p>
<p>"I thought that was just her face."</p>
<p>Isabel laughed again. The Spanish princess was quite beautiful, especially under the moonlight. She had beautifully rich tanned skin, warm dark hair to match her eyes, and wore all black with a large gold pendant necklace, most certainly old Spanish craftsmanship. Humans didn't make jewelry like this anymore. "The fellowship is overflowing with self-righteous extremists, all willing and ready to die for their cause-"</p>
<p>"That can certainly be arranged."</p>
<p>"Your pilot was just the tip of the iceberg, and I think Godric knew that."</p>
<p>"You're <em>sure</em> Godric didn't say anything?"</p>
<p>"Eric, you've known him for longer than I've even existed. He would rather die the most horrible death than risk any one of us. If he thought this place was dangerous and didn't say anything about it, it's because they <em>are</em> dangerous…. Even if they don't look like it."</p>
<p>Eric knew Godric like the back of his hand, but so did Isabel. Godric's secrets were always dangerous and drove Eric absolutely mad. Why couldn't Godric trust Eric to save him? Why couldn't he tell him his dark secrets? Why did he not trust his first and only progeny? Why admire his honor, if Eric wasn't allowed to use it?</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something move in the dark. From behind a school-like building, emerged a small figure, running half-ducked down and disappearing again behind some parked trucks. Her strawberry blonde hair sparkled under the moon. He watched Olivia quickly and strategically make her away to the main Church building while avoiding the Fellowship "guards". He didn't know why he found it so amusing, but she moved like a fox. It was like she was incapable of being ungraceful.</p>
<p>"What in the actual <em>fuck</em>-" Isabel whispered. "Eric, please tell me that is <em>not</em> who I think it is."</p>
<p>"Why did you think I brought her in the first place?" He smirked, but Isabel did <em>not</em> look amused.</p>
<p>"You brought the <em>Queen's-"</em> Isabel stopped herself in anger. Or was it because she wasn't supposed to say?</p>
<p>"The Queen's what?"</p>
<p>Isabel pursed her lips and looked agitated, watching Olivia dash across the campus, closer and closer to the main building. "If anything happens to her you will be in <em>such</em> deep shit, Northman."</p>
<p>"I'm aware of the edict of protection on her head, thank you for your concern."</p>
<p>"And you still sent the woman into this cult alone?! Do you have any idea what the humans would do to her if they found who she works for?!"</p>
<p>"Look at her," he nodded down the hill. Olivia just entered the side of the building through a fire exit and disappeared quietly just in time to not be seen by three men guarding the building. "Olivia can take care of herself. She's been there all day and not once she was afraid."</p>
<p>"Did you ever think this was perhaps a trap? That this is <em>exactly </em>what these lunatics wanted?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Yes?!" Isabel was losing her patience. "I cannot believe you are risking her life like this-"</p>
<p>"It was either <em>this</em> or Stan's all-out war!" Eric's fangs came down. What the fuck was he supposed to do?! Just leave Godric behind?! "Plus it was her idea, I'm not making her do anything-"</p>
<p>Isabel glared at him in a way he didn't like. It was like she could see right through his lie.</p>
<p>"Oh, <em>really?"</em> She mocked him. "Olivia Carson <em>willingly </em>came to Dallas and offered to go rescue your Maker from a possible terrorist organization? And let me guess, she asked to be bound by blood to you too? Wow, it almost makes me think she is in love with you, Northman."</p>
<p>"She's not."</p>
<p>"I didn't fucking think so. If Sophie-Anne finds out about this-"</p>
<p>"She'll what?" Eric had to lower his voice, he didn't want to attract the attention of the humans. "What's the deal between the two? She's the Queen's what?"</p>
<p>"Accountant." She barked and turned away, looking nervously down the valley, but mostly avoiding Eric's eyes.</p>
<p>The same men wandered aimlessly through the parking lot and the gardens, smoking their cigarettes, carrying their little crossbows. Whatever Olivia was doing inside the Church was happening right under their noses. Eric was <em>right</em> in bringing her. If Godric was here she would find him, he knew it. But the shifty way Isabel was behaving indicated she knew something, and wasn't telling him. Whose secret was she keeping?</p>
<p>"I think we <em>both</em> know there's a bit more to her than that. I'm not as stupid as I look-"</p>
<p>"Well, how could you?" She looked at Eric again, with such contempt in her eyes he actually questioned whether or not Isabel wanted Godric found at the cost of Olivia's life.</p>
<p>"What <em>is</em> she?"</p>
<p>Isabel's eyes darkened. She seemed reluctant as if she were studying a distant memory. "Do you trust her?" Was all she asked.</p>
<p>Trust? What did trust have to do with anything? It was an odd question. His poor judgment of trust was precisely what led to Queen Sophie-Anne's cruel and usual punishment. He was forced to let Olivia manage all of his finances, properties, businesses and assets - Pam's too - all because Eric had trusted Longshadow not to dip his filthy hands in places he shouldn't have. Now he entrusted Olivia to find one of the most precious things Eric ever loved: his own Maker. Why? The woman was deceitful, unprincipled, exploitative and highly manipulative. In all honesty, he thought Olivia Carson was formidable.</p>
<p>"I trust her." Eric finally confessed.</p>
<p>And just like that, the spell broke. A loud sound of glass shattering echoed all throughout the valley, followed by sirens and bells ringing. The men scattered through the property all turned facing the Church. They charged towards the building, storming through the large front doors.</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit Olivia, what did you do?</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AN:</p>
<p>HELLO!</p>
<p>Sorry for the wait, there was A LOT to cram in this chapter to set up the rest of this plot arc. Are y'all ready for what she finds in the Church or what?! Get hyped.</p>
<p>Til next time my beautiful tater-tots</p>
<p>xoxoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Bad Reputation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Liv's heart was ringing in her ears, a sharp pain throbbed under her ribs from all the hard and uneven breathing. She was strong like a gymnast from pole dancing, but cardio was not her strong suit by any means. She had dinner with religious terrorists, talked business, gave them shady financial advice and bid them farewell. It was the least she could do for the Newlins before royally fucking them over. Not that she felt bad about it.</p><p>Olivia parked the rental car down the road from the Church lot. Its main building was about a half-mile away from the main road, secluded on a tree-filled lot in the middle of farmlands 40 minutes from the hotel. Doing her best not to be spotted by the security guards roaming the parking lot, she snuck back into the Church building through one of the fire exits. Earlier, before the service happened and Olivia was exploring the place, she stuck a paper business card in the latch of the door, just in case she had to make her way back in after hours. Which she did, to the shock of no one.</p><p>In the dark, she rummaged through the admin office looking for the basement key. After some poking around, Steven Newlin told her the Church's basement was originally a tornado shelter, one they have only used once or twice since this place was built. He didn't tell her about the recent vampire jail conversion, but his mind gave it away. Olivia wondered what would happen in spring if a big enough tornado hit Dallas and the Newlins had to explain to city officials the reason they couldn't take in citizens was because they turned their bunker into an illegal holding cell for vampires.</p><p>"I truly can't make this shit up," Olivia muttered to herself, as she frantically opened desk drawers. Paper, on papers, on papers, parking permits, hole punches, staplers and staple removers... Where are the KEYS DAMMIT?!</p><p>She moved over to a cabinet in the middle of the hallway. It was filled with cleaning supplies. But hanging on the inside of the door: a keychain with at least 2 dozen keys. Liv could finally breathe again without pain, but her heart was still beating a mile a minute. She was going to end up having a heart attack one of these days, just like her father. Olivia dashed to the dark foyer and started trying key after key into the wood-panelled door, excluded from the building's blueprints.</p><p>The first key didn't fit. The second key didn't turn. She glanced at the ceilings and corners: there were no cameras in this place? That was odd. Guess they don't want proof of illegal activity. The only surveillance system Olivia trusted was the old school analog: it only kept one copy of footage on a single VHS tape and it was continuously written over on a 4-hour cycle. Want to keep it? Switch tapes. Want it erased? Time will do it for you. It was perfect for when cops knocked on your door with warrants. No police force in the world was efficient enough to get a warrant signed within four hours of something happening.</p><p>Liv lost count of how many keys she had tried, but suddenly, the one in her hand turned. She quickly stepped through and closed the door behind her, engulfing herself in the pitch-black darkness. It was silent, and she wasn't sure where the landing ended and stairs began. Taking tiny steps, she blindly caressed the walls looking for a light switch. The thought of walking into a 2 thousand-year-old vampire who was being held prisoner down here, unknowing she was Team Vampire gave her a pit in her throat. She was even dressed like a Good Christian Girl, in designer jeans, short heels, a conservative white blouse and a dainty cross necklace, gifted by yours truly.</p><p>"Hello?" She called out in the dark, but with no answer.</p><p>Olivia's eyes adjusted to the dark using the little light that escaped through underneath the foyer door. She saw the outline of the light switch, and turned it on, illuminating the way down. Liv quickly made her way downstairs into the dusty basement. The place was massive and looked mostly like a storage unit for inflatable mattresses, Christmas decorations, creepy life-size Nativity scene statues, and Rubbermaid storage bins. As she walked through the maze of tornado shelter supplies, she encountered a row of empty storage rooms, but they were different. The chain-link walls were instead, thick metal bars, and if she were a betting woman she would guess they were made of silver.</p><p>Liv walked past the empty rooms, one by one making the heavy feeling in her stomach worse until she arrived at the very last cage. A pair of kind brown eyes looked up at her. They stared at each other for what seemed like ages. He was just... A boy. He was wearing linen pants and a tunic with a wide neckline that showed a tattoo across his collarbones, almost like a heavy necklace. He had a small but defined frame, and short vibrant brown hair to match his eyes. He looked to be 18, maybe 20. The vampire just studied her from where he was, sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor.</p><p>"Are you Godric?"</p><p>A small smile formed on his lips. "Who asks?"</p><p>"Eric Northman."</p><p>In a blink of an eye, the boy was standing right in front of her from across the silver bars. He was just a couple of inches taller than her. Olivia had no expectations for the creator of Eric Northman, but somehow, Godric looked nothing like she expected.</p><p>His smile had vanished. Judging by his reaction, this was Godric after all. "He's here?"</p><p>"Outside somewhere," Olivia told him, as she went through the keychain again, looking for a robust key to fit the lock, but it was unlikely any of these would match the wide keyhole.</p><p>"Turn around and walk away."</p><p>His command made Olivia stop looking through the keys and stared dead-eyed at the vampire. "Come again?"</p><p>"I am fine. Just please, leave before you get hurt."</p><p>Olivia was so baffled she was borderline… Offended? She had to abandon a perfect pint of ice cream on a Friday night, hop into a jet with Eric Northman in the middle of the night, witness yet another murder, jump <em>out</em> of it without a parachute putting her life in the hands of a murderous vampire psychopath, getting whiplash, then being forced-fed his blood, kept prisoner in a hotel, taken to a vampire nest, then literally dragged out of it; had to watch Eric bite-fuck some random lady in the hotel bar, study boring-ass Church tax exemptions, had intense sex dreams which may deeply fuck her up mentally forever, had to go to <em>fucking Church</em> and then have dinner with religious fanatics, all in order to sneak <em>back</em> into this goddamn place and find this self-centred asshole WHO DID NOT WANT TO LEAVE?!</p><p>And now what? She was supposed to just walk back out there and tell Eric 'no sorry, your Maker just didn't want to come so I left'? Yeah, that would go super fucking smoothly.</p><p>"I don't fucking think so, Eric will mount my head on a wall if I let the Newlins use you to roast breakfast s'mores."</p><p>"The Light ceremony."</p><p>"You know about that?"</p><p>"Yes. It's why I came," Godric said calmly.</p><p>The <em>lunacy - </em>there were no words. She just shook her head and started trying keys on the chain for the sake of trying <em>something</em>. Olivia came <em>too</em> far to only come <em>this</em> far.</p><p>"Please, stop." He spoke softly, almost in a whisper. It was very different from the authoritarian commanding tone Eric had.</p><p>None of the keys she had worked on this stupid door. She bet the keys were somewhere in Steve and Sarah's house. How the fuck would she sneak back in there? Godric had a plain but peaceful look on his face, watching her try key after key but knowing damn well it was useless. "I need you to leave."</p><p>"Godric, I can't! Eric will kill me if…" She remembered the dark cold feeling she got when she asked Eric what would happen if she were to fail. "I don't have a choice!"</p><p>"You always have a choice."</p><p>Olivia was confused, angry, defeated and honestly? Exhausted. Olivia pulled out her Blackberry and started typing. "No, you know what? You two figure this out. I'm done-"</p><p>"What are you doing?"</p><p>"Calling Eric. He wanted my help finding you? Well, I did it. Now if he wants you, he can come down here and get you out himself. I'm a <em>goddamn</em> accountant! I did not go to Princeton for this-"</p><p>A loud blow interrupted her and she took a step back, startled. Godric had torn the thick cell doors right off its hinges and carefully put it down three feet to the side. Steam came off his palms as the silver cell door burned his flesh, but he didn't even flinch nor showed any signs of pain. He could have escaped this <em>entire time</em>?!</p><p>"Alright human, I'll go," Godric said as he simply stepped out of his cell. "Are you armed?"</p><p>"...No. Should I be?" She asked, putting her phone back in her pocket.</p><p>"That won't be necessary. Lead the way, my kind lady."</p><p>Olivia didn't know if he was being sarcastic or not, but she started walking back through the maze she came in, and the vampire quietly followed her 3 feet back at all times. Every time Olivia glanced over her shoulder, Godric's eyes were <em>right</em> on her. She knew where Eric got his intense stare from.</p><p>She peeked through the Foyer door. It was still quiet and dark out there. The moonlight shone brightly in through the windows, making pretty patterns on the stone floors. Liv crossed the entrance hall on her tippy toes and spied outside from the Foyer window. She could see the silhouette of the security guards wandering outside. Sneaking out shouldn't be as difficult as sneaking in was, but she wasn't still quite sure she could trust Go-</p><p>Where the fuck did he go?</p><p>The foyer was empty. <em>Shit</em>. "Godric?!" She whispered into the dark. Olivia slipped into the main Church Hall, just to find the boy in the very middle of the empty grand room, approaching the altar. "What are you doing?!"</p><p>"Is this it?" He asked, walking up the altar's steps. Even he looked small at the bottom of the monumental 20 foot stained glass window right in front of him. "Where they perform the Light ceremony?"</p><p>Olivia approached, confused by his curiosity. On the altar was a long stone table, with nothing on it. This was probably where they laid the vampires and watched the sunrise through the windows. It was the image she got from Sarah Newlin's mind.</p><p>"Yes," she told him. She imagined this place full with the people she sat with earlier. Everyone - women, men, elderly and even children, gathered to watch vampires die. She understood many humans had been deeply hurt by vampires, many have been killed. But to torture them to death? To make a spectacle of it? For what? To find comfort and peace in evil?</p><p>"At first I came because I wanted to show Reverend Newlin and his congregation we were not the monsters he believed us to be," Godric explained, resting his hands on the stone table. Olivia still watched him from the bottom of the steps. Maybe it was his linen tunic and trousers, maybe it was the religious setting, but Godric seemed more angelical than vampirical. "However in my time here, the Reverend brought down humans to tell me their stories, stories of how their lives were torn apart by my kind… And I think I was the one who was convinced otherwise. We <em>are</em> monsters… Even as I stand here alone with you, my savior, my body aches not to drain you every little bit of blood in you."</p><p>Olivia stopped breathing for a moment. So much for looking like an angel. Something told her Godric would not care about an edict of protection, but yet she stood here unharmed. He was twice the vampire Eric was, and insane enough to try to <em>reason</em> with Steven Newlin, but she did feel not threatened as she did with Eric.</p><p>"They've starved you," Olivia argued. "Wanting food doesn't make you a monster."</p><p>"I wish I could believe you, human. I've been roaming Earth for over two-thousand years… And for that entire time, I watched vampires get more brutal and evil… More cruel, predatory, sadistic-"</p><p>"So have humans. Slavery, colonialism, erasure of entire native tribes… We had two world wars in the past century alone. The holocaust, multiple genocides, we inflicted famine in whole countries, dropped nuclear bombs, terrorism, oppression, coups, corruption - hell, the U.S. even legalized torture… Vampires don't become monsters at turning. We have always <em>been</em> monsters."</p><p>Godric paused for a second, surprised by her answer. "That's a very… Cynical point of view. Have you no faith in humankind?"</p><p>Oh, if he only knew humankind as she did. "None whatsoever."</p><p>"What is your name, human?"</p><p>"Olivia Carson."</p><p>"Olivia, do you believe in God?"</p><p>She thought a lot about God in her life. She wondered if God was the one who made her like this if he had cursed her family with telepathy. Sure, it brought her some good, but also so much pain, heartbreak and disappointment. If God existed, why did he make her like this? If God existed, why did he make <em>people </em>so awful? So egotistical, selfish, insecure, greedy, petty, small...</p><p>Olivia looked around the empty Church, painted indigo blue and emerald green by the shining moonlight on the window. This was supposed to be a house of worship, a place for soul cleansing and safety, and community. A place to turn evil, dirty and sinful hearts into good ones. But instead, it was all just theatre. The Newlins were sound asleep in their luxury pillows, safe and comfortable in their mansion, making a <em>fucking</em> fortune by planting fear and hate in people and harvesting their money. They glorify torture and murder in the name of <em>God.</em> If God existed, and this was the way to worship Him, then He made some <em>serious</em> errors.</p><p>Olivia felt angry the Newlins could get away with this. Technically, killing or torturing vampires wasn't even a crime they could be charged with - not until the Vampire Rights Amendment passed anyway, and these things take decades. Something within her snapped. This madness had to be stopped.</p><p>With determination she walked around the stone table, and grabbed the handcrafted Bishop's chair with both hands and lifted - it was heavier than it looked, so she had to hobble a couple of steps before getting a good grip on it. She turned it to her right awkwardly, but once she got a good grasp, she started to twirl. Olivia spun and spun, letting the chair pick up momentum in the air, and with a swift motion and perfect timing, she threw the chair away from her body by letting her hands go.</p><p>With a loud hit, the wooden chair went perfectly through the stained glass window, landing outside in the garden, and shattering into pieces. The hole it created on the glass grew cracks like veins, all throughout. Then, slowly, pieces of blue and green glass started falling like rain. Olivia took several steps back, as she knew what was going to happen next like Deja Vu. It all came rushing down at once, leaving a huge gap on the back of the Church, now it was wide open to the garden, facing the trees and the moon. The indigo and emerald light was now just dull shards of glass spread across the floor.</p><p>There would be no more Light Ceremonies. No more finding comfort in watching people being burned alive for shit they probably didn't even do. No more fake holier-than-thou moral superiority from these hypocrites. If God existed, this is not what he would have wanted from humanity.</p><p>"No, I don't." Olivia finally answered, turning around and facing Godric. The boy then smiled at her, as if he found what she said funny, but Olivia ignored him. "It's just easier to cope with life when you have someone to blame your shit on. For these people, it's vampires."</p><p>"And for you?"</p><p>Before she had the time to answer, sirens burst out in the place. The loudest alarm bell she had ever heard rang in her ears so loud she couldn't even think. In the distance, the Church's front doors opened and men came rushing in yelling and pointing their crossbow towards the two invaders at the altar. Everything went quiet once she felt Godric's cold hand touch hers. His kind brown eyes were endless.</p><p>Without any more words or philosophical questions, Godric took her in his arms and flew through the window opening out of the Church and into the night sky. Her stomach was full of butterflies, half scared of being in this stranger's tight embrace, half feeling the echo of the terror she felt when she had to jump out of that airplane in Eric's arms. Suddenly, this whole thing felt wrong. She needed out. She wanted down. Her eyes tried to make out the shapes of roads and fields down below, until she spotted the silver SUV parked on the shoulder of the road, right beside the entrance of the Church compound.</p><p>"There!" She shouted, pointing down. Without questioning, Godric descended to the ground, landing 10 feet away from the car parked on the shoulder of the road. Olivia reached into her purse for the car keys. "Sorry, I don't care much for flying. We will drive the rest of the way."</p><p>The car's headlights flashed as she unlocked it. "You've flown before?" Godric asked, standing still in the middle of the road.</p><p>"Once too many-" and speaking of the devil, Eric Northman appeared out of the sky, landing himself between Olivia and Godric.</p><hr/><p>Eric sent Isabel to distract the humans away so they wouldn't go after the blur that shot into the sky out of the back of the Church. If everything went according to plan, they would all meet at Godric's house later. Eric chased what he hoped for dear life that it was Godric and Olivia. Not a lot of vampires knew how to fly, so the odds were on his side.</p><p>But Eric also knew that if anything <em>could</em> go wrong, it usually did. What if Olivia rescued the wrong vampire? What if Godric killed Olivia for whatever reason? She <em>was </em>mouthy and he had seen Godric kill for a whole lot less. He glanced back at the Church, trying to find the source of the loud crash when he saw an enormous and very destroyed stained glass window on the East side of the building It looked as if a meteor had shot into the building, blowing a large hole in the back of it.</p><p>He couldn't see signs of anyone anywhere, other than shouts of men chasing Isabel out West. Then, he saw the flash of car headlights out the corner of his eye, past the trees and near the road. Eric hurried, and his body gave out once he saw him.</p><p>Godric was <em>alive</em> and standing in the middle of the dark road. It's like Eric could fully breathe again, after part of him spent 300 years suffocating. If his heart could beat, it would. He gently landed and kneeled before his Maker.</p><p>"My childe," Godric spoke.</p><p>The relief of being together again was almost more than Eric could bear. Suddenly nothing else mattered. Not the men hunting Isabel, not the distant high-pitched echoes of the Church's alarm, not Olivia standing by the car watching them, nothing. Godric was okay. Godric was fine. Godric was here.</p><p>"<em>My father," </em>Eric spoke in old Norse. It had been centuries since Eric didn't speak it with anyone other than Pam. It was a part of him, just like his Maker.</p><p>"<em>You were a fool for sending a human after me."</em> Godric quickly reprimanded him.</p><p>"<em>I had no other choice!"</em></p><p>"<em>There is always a choice-"</em></p><p>"<em>These fanatics - they seek to destroy you, destroy all of us."</em></p><p>"<em>I'm well aware, Eric."</em></p><p>Anger rose within Eric. Was Godric resentful for being rescued? "<em>Was I supposed to just let them kill you, then? I made a vow to you-"</em></p><p>"<em>I know you did! And I know you to be honorable to a fault, my child, it's what I love the most about you. But at what cost?"</em></p><p>"<em>Cost?"</em> Eric repeated, incredulous. "<em>There is no cost."</em></p><p>"<em>Lives have a cost."</em></p><p>"<em>Human lives?"</em> Eric asked, confused at what exactly his Maker was insinuating. Godric then looked at Olivia, who watched the two argue quietly by the car. Eric stood up, resenting her presence. Not once Olivia felt fear, all day and all evening. It's like she felt nothing at all. "<em>Human lives cost nothing."</em></p><p>"<em>You're wrong."</em></p><p>Eric was at a loss for words. What the hell did those Church lunatics do to him? This was not the Godric Eric knew. This was not the man who taught him there were only two things that mattered: survival and death. What in the world was he talking about? Human lives are worth something <em>since when?</em></p><p>"<em>Is she yours?"</em> Godric asked, still eyeing Olivia. She looked pristine, in her jeans and white satin blouse with conservative low heels. Golden cross peeking from behind the collar. She took it all in, doe-eyed. He wondered for a second if she could understand their conversation. Although unlikely, he wouldn't put it past her.</p><p>"<em>No."</em></p><p>"<em>Do you not want her to be yours?"</em></p><p>Olivia realized the two were talking about her by the way she shifted her feet and looked away half blushing.</p><p>"I'm not sure <em>she's worth the trouble."</em></p><p>Godric replied with a half-smile. "<em>So she </em>is <em>worth something."</em></p><p>Eric stared at his Maker, annoyed he could twist his words like that. That was <em>Eric's</em> specialty. A silence fell between them. They were surrounded by midnight blue sky, farmland and green crops, the only building he could vaguely see in the distance was a barn and some silos. What an odd place for Olivia to have parked the car. He noticed she had rented a silver Dodge Durango - her taste in cars was <em>awful</em>.</p><p>"We should go, it won't take long until the Fellowship comes looking for us," Olivia warned them, finally breaking the silence and entering the car. Godric passed him, walking towards the passenger side of the car.</p><p>Olivia proceeded to turn the car engine on, <em>in her fucking dreams</em> Eric would ler her drive. He opened her door and stood just outside, his hand resting firmly on the door frame. "Out," he ordered.</p><p>"I can drive-"</p><p>"Well my first car was a Ford model T, now get out." Eric insisted.</p><p>Olivia scoffed, looking up at Eric. He stood there with a serious look in his eyes, impatient to be alone with his Maker. From behind the treeline on the road, they could see headlights peeking through, as pick-up trucks drove down the long Church driveway. Eric stood his ground. Olivia should know by now what would happen to the humans if they reached them. They would all be dead within minutes.</p><p>Lips pressed and eyebrows frowning, Olivia stepped out of the car and basically scrapped her body against Eric on her way out, as he refused to move or give her more than the bare minimum for her to actually leave the car. He could tell she disliked how he used her small size against her, and she may even think this was his way to establish dominance over her - it would be pretty on-brand for him. But Eric imposed himself because he secretly adored how she smelled.</p><p>Eric entered the car and closed the door. Godric sat on the passenger seat and Olivia sulked in the backseat right behind him. Another thing about this goddamn car offended him - it was a fucking automatic model. Eric threw the car in drive and his foot hit the gas all the way, almost making the tires squeal. He took the long way back to the city, to make double sure they were not being followed. Everyone in the car was quiet. 300 years apart, so much time yearning to speak to his maker, and now he could barely make small talk.</p><p>"<em>Are you hungry?"</em> Eric asked Godric.</p><p>"<em>I need very little blood these days.</em>"</p><p>"<em>That's not really what I asked." </em>Eric protested. Why was Godric being so fucking difficult?</p><p>"<em>I'm fine, Eric."</em></p><p>"<em>No, I don't think you are-"</em></p><p>"<em>Eric-"</em></p><p>"<em>No, stop it! What the hell is going on with you? You grew a conscience after I left?"</em></p><p>"<em>I grew a conscience </em>because <em>you left."</em></p><p>"<em>What? You DO NOT get to make feel guilty for leaving, Godric. You released me! You </em>wanted <em>me gone!"</em></p><p>"<em>I never meant to hurt you, my child-"</em></p><p>"<em>You did the ONE thing that ever could! What exactly did you mean to accomplish by sending me away?"</em></p><p>Eric's turns were getting a bit sharper, the engine vibrated all throughout the car. Eric must have been speeding because Olivia's heartbeat sounded strong and her eyes looked mildly panicked as she white-knuckled the roof handle with all her might.</p><p>"<em>I wanted you to grow into your own person. Trace your own footsteps. I was holding you back-"</em></p><p>"<em>That's a bunch of bullshit-"</em></p><p>"<em>Am I wrong? Aren't you a powerful Sherriff now, with your own business and progeny-"</em></p><p>"<em>Don't act and pretend we aren't fucking puppets. I never wanted to be Sheriff, I never wanted any of it. I run Fangtasia because I'm expected to generate profit for the fucking Authority. The only power I have is to enforce Magistry laws I don't even believe in. I could not give less of a fuck about any of it."</em></p><p>Godric looked away, expressionless. "<em>Did you know I needed permission to come here looking for you? What kind of power is that, that I can't even cross imaginary without asking?"</em></p><p>"<em>Then leave."</em></p><p>"<em>You know fucking well this gig is for life. The only way out is the true death."</em></p><p>"<em>Or you become King yourself."</em></p><p>Eric scoffed at the absurdity of the idea. "<em>I rather have the true death than suck the Authority's dick any deeper."</em></p><p>"<em>You were always destined to be King, Eric,"</em> Godric told him. His maker insisted on this stupid idea for centuries now. Eric was the heir to the throne in his birth land, over a thousand years ago back when he was human. He never wanted it then, and he sure as hell didn't want it now.</p><p>"<em>I was always destined to be great, not a King."</em> Eric corrected him. "<em>And how am I supposed to be great if the man who made who I am gives his life away like he is worthless?"</em></p><p>"That's enough!" Godric demanded, now in English. "We will speak of this at another time. We are being rude to our friend."</p><p>"She's not my friend," Eric muttered, avoiding her gaze through the rearview mirror. "She's my accountant-"</p><p>"Well <em>my</em> friend, then." Godric interrupted.</p><p>Olivia blushed slightly as his Maker quickly smiled at her. Eric gives her a simple task and leaves them alone for <em>five fucking minutes</em>…</p><p>Eric finally pulled into the driveway, next to three other cars. A black impala which was Godric's, Isabel's Porsche and a ridiculously sized Hummer that belonged to <em>none other</em> than Stan Baker. Godric's house was similar to Isabel, but much bigger of course since he was the Sheriff. Modern house with large windows, a mix of concrete, wood and stone, with a very nice garden that surrounded the property, along with a nicely built privacy fence.</p><p>Godric exited the car and out of the house came Isabel and Stan and other vampires who were all smiling and cheering, all thankful for Godric's safe return. Reluctantly, Eric got out of the car too and Olivia followed. He watched Godric reunite with his nest, giving him a private moment to do so before heading towards the house. After all, he didn't belong here. He hadn't, for a very long time. Soon, more vampires would come to celebrate the Sheriff's safe return and Eric would not get his undivided attention again. Perhaps it was for the best.</p><p>He heard the car's door open again, and upon turning, he saw Olivia ready to re-enter. "I'm going back to the hotel now. I'll head back to Shreveport at first light tomorrow morning, and-"</p><p>"Why?" Eric asked her simply.</p><p>Olivia hesitated, standing quietly in the driveway. "My job here is done-"</p><p>"Stay," he asked. Eric's request caught her off guard. "We'll go home tomorrow."</p><p>"Well, you don't have to. I'm sure you two have plenty to catch up on," Eric wasn't so sure he wanted to catch up with Godric any longer. "And I'm certainly not needed for that, so I'll just…"</p><p>"Olivia," Eric insisted. "Stay."</p><p>The words <em>thank you</em> were not in his vocabulary by any means, but Olivia had saved his Maker's life. The least he could do was to give her one peaceful night without being a total dick to her. The welcome party had gone inside with Godric, leaving just the two of them and the moon outside. With a small smile, she nodded and closed the car door. She followed Eric towards the house and chuckled as she noticed one of the cars on the driveway was this huge white Hummer with extra-large rims.</p><p>"Let me guess, Stan's car?"</p><p>"Yeah," Eric nodded, pausing in the doorway while holding the door for her.</p><p>"Bet he has a tiny dick." She whispered to him as she entered the house, not noticing the first time Eric Northman genuinely smiled at her.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AN. hello my sweet little angels!</p><p>Such a drama-filled chapter, oh my! Hope you liked it, there's more coming soon I promise!</p><p>xoxoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Violet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Godric's home was quickly filled with vampires from all around the area who heard the news that their beloved Sheriff had returned. Eric wandered through conversations, made polite small talk, caught up with some old vampire acquaintances he hadn't seen in decades. Oddly enough, a lot of them had brought their human companions too, but none that seemed to interest Olivia. Eric found himself trying not to <em>want</em> to find her as he drifted through the party, but his eyes scanned every room for her without even thinking about it. Maybe it was her looks, or her scent, or his responsibility to watch over her that drew him in. However, she paid little to no attention to him whatsoever. She seemed completely comfortable chatting up vampires who adorned her like vultures. Most humans would be shaking at the boots, but not her. It was unconventional, to say the least.</p><p>His Maker, now showered and wearing fresh clothes, sat quietly on an armchair watching the guests chatter over the traditional Nepalese instrumental music. The lights were dim and comfortable, the fireplaces were warm and vibrant, cheerful conversation filled the room. He had lived parties like this with Godric at least a thousand times in multiple continents, over 7 different centuries but it never got old, not once.</p><p>Still, there was something disturbing him. He approached Isabel, who was talking to two humans. Eric stared them down as he approached, making them leave quickly. It was a skill he had mastered so long ago, sometimes he caught himself doing it without realizing it.</p><p>"So your girl delivered," Isabel said, not too bothered watching her meal walk away.</p><p>"Yeah, not my girl." Eric quickly corrected her while watching Olivia, who was sitting on a plush large ottoman and chatting up three male vampires by the fireplace, giving off a burst of charming and flirtatious laughter. Not the kind she ever gave him, mind you. "Are you going to tell me what you really know about her, or what?"</p><p>"That depends…" Isabel pretended to think it over, a big smug smile on her face. "Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Godric all those years ago?" Cheeky, but they both knew the answer would be no.</p><p>Before Eric could say anything, a beautiful Asian vampire came up to them with an enticing smile. "I cannot believe Godric was being held hostage by those religious freaks! Just when you think the Christian Church lost its power, they pull something so extraordinarily bold like this. I am so grateful for what you've done, Mr. Northman."</p><p>"Mhmm," Eric nodded uninterested, catching a glimpse of Stan Baker across the room, squinting with hatred. Eric got plenty of compliments and wishes of gratitude for locating and freeing their beloved Sherif from multiple guests in Godric's home. Many, he was sure, were Stan's friends. Normally Eric wouldn't indulge in such a dick-licking fest, but he gladly accepted all the praise tonight only because he knew it pissed off Stan so much.</p><p>Clearly, the oaf had enough, because he finally approached and said something. "Don't delude yourself, Northman did fuck all. He had his human bitch do all the work. Guess getting his pretty little hands dirty is beneath him these days."</p><p>"Don't take yourself so seriously, Stan. No one else does," Eric tapped him on the shoulder and walked away, feeling Stan fume behind him. This was <em>almost </em>as satisfying as punching him in the face, he imagined.</p><p>"Stan!" Godric suddenly called out from another room. The mongrel walked over and knelt by the Sheriff's feet. "Did you just refer to Olivia Carson as a bitch?"</p><p>Immediately the room fell to a hush. You could hear a pin drop in the house, heads turned, the laughter died, air tensed up. Eric watched Olivia who stood perfectly still, her eyes met his as if looking for a way out - there wasn't one.</p><p>"Err… What I meant to say was-"</p><p>"Olivia," Godric looked straight at her. "Come here."</p><p>Eric watched her quietly walk over, chin up high. She wasn't one to make herself smaller for anyone. He followed Olivia, curious as to what was going to happen next. Sure Stan was mindless and coarse at best, but had he done something wrong enough to warrant trouble? He deeply hoped so, he hadn't seen Godric kill another vampire for <em>such</em> a long time. His kills were always so raw and beautiful. Blink, and you'd miss it.</p><p>"Apologize," Godric demanded.</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit.</em>
</p><p>"What?" Stan scoffed.</p><p>"Olivia is my friend and guest and you've insulted her under my roof. Apologize, <em>now."</em></p><p>Oh, this was going to be <em>waaay</em> better than punching Stan in the face. Eric had to bite back his shit-eating grin to not ruin the moment. Stan stood up, and half turned towards her moving slowly and painfully, his squinty eyes were pointed to her feet. Literally, everyone was watching him.</p><p>"Sorry ma'am," he muttered with his stupid Texas accent.</p><p>"For what exactly?" Olivia asked loud and clear, brows raised and arms crossed. The silence in the room was broken by tiny breaths and gasps, followed by sneers and whispers. She knew exactly what Stan was apologizing for, she just wanted him to explain it in front of the entire party and humiliate himself even further. As if apologizing to a human in front of every vampire who was somebody in these parts wasn't bad enough. She was enjoying it. <em>Magnificent.</em></p><p>"I am sorry for disrespecting you," he grumbled through his teeth.</p><p>"Which time?" Stan was also pretty fucking rude to her the night before, but Olivia Carson was not taking any prisoners.</p><p>"All the times, ma'am." Stan finally answered. He was borderline shaking in rage.</p><p>After the longest 3 seconds of Stan's life, Olivia graciously accepted the apology and Stan B-lined out of the room in absolute shame. Eric was absolutely fucking <em>beaming</em>. Olivia nodded to Godric and also left the room, probably embarrassed by all the party guests still gawking at her. This left Eric and Godric finally alone. At least, the most alone he would probably get.</p><p>"You better be careful. People are going to start thinking you have a soft spot for her," Eric wandered closer to Godric, hands behind his back.</p><p>"I don't think it's a weakness to treat humans as equals, that's all."</p><p>"Say it with a bit more enthusiasm and you can go for Nan Flanagan's gig," Eric joked, but Godric didn't smile. He forgot his Maker didn't have much sense of humour. Eric sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing his Maker directly. "Why did you tell me not to look for you? Did they hurt you in any way? Is the Fellowship dangerous?"</p><p>Godric looked away for a moment with pained eyes. "No, they didn't treat me badly. You'd be shocked at how ordinary most of them are."</p><p>No, Eric wasn't shocked at it at all - they looked all pretty fucking ordinary. But he didn't believe they were as harmless as they looked. He did research on his own too. "The Fellowship is a cult full of nothing but hatred for us-"</p><p>"Let's be honest here, Eric. We kind of deserve it. Vampires have terrorized humans for thousands of years, it's only natural they would hate us."</p><p>"Is this why you let them take you? Is this why you didn't fight back?"</p><p>"I went willingly."</p><p>Eric suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "Well, that was very idiotic of you. Sacrificing yourself wouldn't absolve anything we've done."</p><p>"Wouldn't it? Isn't that what God teaches? Forgiveness and sacrifice? Dying for the sins of those you love?"</p><p>"Godric, after everything we've lived through together, after everything we've seen…. How can you not see it?"</p><p>"See what, my childe?"</p><p>"God left a long time ago."</p><p>"Hm." A small smirk appeared on his lips. "You sound just like Olivia."</p><hr/><p>Despite being told otherwise many times by her cousin Tommy, Olivia never considered herself to be a petty person. She always thought it was more like… Hand delivering karma, and sometimes it just had to be done. For balancing out the universe's chaotic energy, you know? But after shattering Stan's pride in front of the whole function, no one else approached her anymore. Everyone was now too scared of offending her in any way in front of Godric. Calling her a bitch out loud was a <em>high bar</em>, but still, she found herself leaning on a hallway facing the least popular side of a double-ended fireplace. What was up with vampires and their obsession with fire-places? They freaking <em>loved it</em>. She swore every vampire she's ever met had one in their house.</p><p>"Are we boring you?" A deep voice asked, approaching her.</p><p>Eric was now jacket-less. Along with his usual dark jeans, he was wearing a black singlet which showed his perfectly muscular and defined shoulders and arms. They looked exactly like they did in her dreams...</p><p>"No, it's just…" She almost got lost in her thoughts. The dreams were so vivid they now felt like memories. Those arms were touching her. <em>Focus for fuck's sake -</em> "Vampire parties are often a bit dull." Eric raised his eyebrows surprised. "It's just a sober party with no food and your music is really weird."</p><p>"And the company? I've watched you be swarmed by vampires all night."</p><p>"Vampires… Or men in general?"</p><p>"I just figured you'd rather spend time with your kind."</p><p>"Since when are you concerned about who I spend my time with?"</p><p>Eric gave her an evil smile, which she took as a <em>tread lightly</em> sign. "I'm not."</p><p>"Besides, most of them are too scared of talking to me after Stan's thing."</p><p>"Ah yes, that was by far the most embarrassing thing I've seen in the past 10 years," Eric said, moving a piece of her smooth hair off her face. She shot him a confronting look, disapproving of his tender touch. Olivia was not one for regrets, but vampires were vengeful creatures and more enemies were not what she needed. But tonight, she ended up adding Stan Baker to the list. And if Eric kept up with the touching, she would have to add him too.</p><p>"You'd make a terrific vampire," Eric said so quietly he may not even have said it at all.</p><p>Olivia was surprised by his words. Coming from him, it was a compliment which was completely foreign and surprising. She was surprised by him, period. Watching him with his Maker, meeting Godric, having him touch her hair softly and express gratitude, it was too… Humanizing. She preferred to think of Eric as the psychopath blood-covered serial killer monster who lurked in that dark basement ready to kill for sport. The one who dragged her around and pinned her against walls bullied her and threatened her in the most intrusive ways imaginable: with his own blood. But the more time she spent with him, the more times she would consequently dream of him… She feared that image would change, and she didn't know what to make of it.</p><p>Was it bad to want to only see him as a monster? Maybe. Having a distaste for Eric would make this job easier. They held each other's gaze a little while longer in silence until she pulled away. It was hard to. It was as if her body didn't want to.</p><p>"No thanks. I like being alive," she sighed, watching the birch burn and crackle in the fireplace. "Which reminds me, new rule: no more side jobs for you."</p><p>"But I thought we were having fun?" The grin he had on his face wasn't sarcastic.</p><p>She thought back on this shit-show of a weekend. "No, we really are <em>not</em>."</p><p>Eric stiffened for a second, almost as if he were trying to hold back. "We can talk about this later."</p><p>"There's nothing to talk about. I am your accountant, not your errand girl, Eric. That's all I'll ever be to you." She told him cooly.</p><p>He relaxed and started to slowly roam around her, like a lion eyeing its prey."I thought you were supposed to cover me where I'm vulnerable."</p><p>"Where your <em>business </em>is vulnerable. I don't want to do you any more favors."</p><p>He slowly got closer, blocking the fire and casting her completely in his cold shadow.</p><p>"You think that's what this was? You were doing me a favor?" Eric said quietly in her ear with a smile.</p><p>He extended his arm while getting closer still, making her step back. Her back touched the wall Eric leaned his left hand into, surrounding her completely against the wall. She's been here before, between Eric and a wall. It did not go well for her.</p><p>His voice dropped deeper, into a deadly whisper. His other hand lightly grazed her arm. "You really think you had a choice in this matter? You think you can just show up at Fangtasia and choose what you want to do <em>when</em> you want to do it? No… That's not how this arrangement works, Olivia."</p><p>Olivia's chest tightened feeling her blood go dark and cold again. To anyone watching, they may have looked like a courting couple. Eric the vampire trying to seduce his human accountant, office romance. It was far from it. "So had I said no to helping find Godric?"</p><p>With Eric's arm being on the wall above her shoulder, it left him with his torso exposed. She could punch him right in the ribcage with an uppercut, just like her dad taught her. But unfortunately for her, any kind of violence against Eric at a vampire party, in the sheriff's home, in front of his Maker would be the epitome of a bad idea.</p><p>"I can be very… Persuasive."</p><p>Olivia relaxed her shoulders, not becoming intimidated by his little show. It was all this was, a show. He already gave her his blood, that was his only card and he already played it. Whatever further <em>persuasion</em> he had in mind, surely he would have to think twice about it. "Haven't you learned what happens when you cross me?"</p><p>"Maybe I <em>like</em> crossing you," He smirked. He gave her that odd look he sometimes did, the one she couldn't read. It was like, curiosity mixed with hesitation and something else. Reading human emotions was so easy (<em>too easy) </em>that she often wondered if she was lacking some serious body expression reading skills for those she couldn't read. "Why <em>did</em> you come then, if this wasn't a favor?"</p><p>"Well, I am billing you for this-"</p><p>"Isn't our reigning Queen paying you enough? Salary, benefits, the apartment, the car… Are you perhaps, in trouble and hard for money, is that it?"</p><p>"No, I-" her mind was going blank. Her mind <em>never</em> went blank. "I wanted your trust," Olivia confessed.</p><p>Eric pulled away, looking smug. "Why do you need it?"</p><p>Why did she need it, indeed? Would less pestering and push-back make her job go smoother? Yes. But she was a pro at handling difficult clients and for the kind of job she was up to, Eric Northman was no ordinary client. She needed him to trust her because she was going to start phase 2 of her business plan for Northman &amp; Co. Phase 1 was asset protection which she completed with his offshore shell companies and accounts; phase 2 would be profit maximization, followed by phase 3: all the illegal shit - the tax evasion, embezzlement and laundering, like building an enormous machine and then running it. When you are a criminal first you get the vault, then you build the castle, then you move in (never the other way around). Olivia was going to completely transform Fangtasia, acquire new businesses and PR the ever-living shit of his image with the local business bureau. Eric Northman had to be an asset in this town, not a thorn who got raided by the DEA twice a month.</p><p>She was okay with Eric hating her, she knew he probably would even before they even met. But he needed to trust her and allow her to make money and power moves on his behalf. "Because I'm going to build you an Empire."</p><p>That made Eric back off. He now leaned on the wall beside her, perfectly muscular arms crossed, looking down and eyeing her still. "I already have one."</p><p>The space between them put her more at ease. "It's a sandcastle at low tide."</p><p>"Is it?"</p><p>"Compared to what I have in mind, yeah."</p><p>Eric was thoughtfully quiet for a moment but never took his eyes off her. "What about what I want?"</p><p><em>Irrelevant</em>, but she indulged him anyway. "What <em>do</em> you want Eric?"</p><p>"I want-"</p><p>Fear entered the house. His thoughts were ear-splitting, hateful and horrible. <em>They are going to burn. All of them.</em> Olivia stood straight, feeling pins and needles all over her skull. There was someone at this party who was going to do something awful and vile. Eric must have picked up on her wavelength because he also pushed himself off the wall and asked with fangs out. "What?"</p><p>"There's someone here from the Fellowship-"</p><p>Not even a millisecond later the whole room went bright orange. The blast thundered in a wave, hitting her body like a concrete wall. She felt heat and ice and before she knew, she was thrown on the floor. Then everything went black.</p><p>Everything hurt and it was hard to breathe. Time passed in slow motion and at hyperspeed all at once. She still couldn't see much other than stars flying, and she wasn't sure those were just in her head. There was a loud ringing in her right ear and distant sounds on her left, of people crying and yelling. She tasted metal in her mouth. She tried to move but there was something way too heavy on top of her - debris, probably from the fireplace. Maybe a piece of the ceiling, or the fireplace itself.</p><p>She started to panic, the air felt distant. What if they didn't find her under the rubble and wreckage for hours? What time was it? Was dawn close?</p><p>"Eric-" She gasped with the little air she had left in her lungs. "Eric!"</p><p>Olivia felt something shuffle on top of her. She realized the pile of wreckage on top of her <em>was</em> Eric. He threw himself on top of her to shield her from the blast. "Eric?" She muttered.</p><p>"Yeah?" He groaned, half in pain. He lifted his chest off of her, and she could finally take a full inhale. His arms hooked under her armpit, he held the back of her head with interlaced fingers, to protect her skull from impact. She could see his shiny icy eyes staring at her from up close. <em>He was okay</em>. And that thought felt like a bittersweet relief.</p><p>"As I said, no more side hustles for you."</p><hr/><p>Four dead vampires - including Stan Baker - and three human companions. Plus thousands worth in damage to his Maker's home. That was the extent of the damage created by the suicide bomber who had infiltrated the party. Godric was okay, though.</p><p>Apparently, some college jock looking kid just strolled in, right in the middle of the party and blew himself up. Curiously enough, Olivia knew about it seconds before it happened. Eric had the working theory she was a psychic. He had been with one before. It was delightful - for a while. He also got to experience the flash flood of fear in Olivia's blood. It happened quick but it cut deep and unforgiving, like a sharp axe. She <em>did</em> have emotions after all. She now sat quietly in the dining room, staring at nothing in particular, deep in thought.</p><p>Ambulances and cop cars were parked outside, shining their blue and red lights all across the front of the house. Paramedics tended to the many wounded humans (despite their vampire companions healing them before they even arrived) and the police took witness statements (to pretend to investigate, when in reality they didn't give a fuck). All the vampire guests were sent to the Carmilla hotel, and all other vampire businesses in Dallas had been warned to be shut down, in case the Fellowship had more targets. Eric doubted they were that organized though.</p><p>Isabel, Godric, Eric and Olivia were the only remaining people inside. Godric looked a bit deflated. Eric would be too if someone had invaded the safety of his home and destroyed it, causing harm to his guests who were under his roof. Eric knew the explosion and the deaths, especially the human ones, would complicate things tenfold. He feared his Maker was going through something and this was maybe more than he could handle.</p><p>"This wasn't your fault if that's what you're thinking," Eric told him, but Godric didn't respond. He just looked at his destroyed house. There was blood splattered on the walls, from chunks of goo to spray of mist. There was a hole in the ceiling, pink insulation had rained everywhere. Glass was everywhere, a layer of black dust covered everything.</p><p>"Obviously not, Northman." Isabel scoffed. Clearly, Godric did not share his heavy conscience with her. "But it won't stop Nan Flanagan from bulldozing this place. She's gonna rip us all new assholes when she gets here."</p><p>"The lady from the TV?" Olivia asked. She was sitting far away, but she was paying attention.</p><p>"Yeah, this is going to be all over the news and it will be a PR nightmare for the AVL," Isabel explained. "Nan landed half an hour ago, she should arrive soon."</p><p>Eric <em>really</em> disliked Nan Flanagan with every fibre of his being. She was the head of the American Vampire League, a lobbyist group who pushed for the Vampire Rights Amendment. She was merely a puppet - in the sense that the Authority had their hands so far up her ass they moved her lips for her. Luckily, it was almost dawn. Whatever Nan Flanagan had to say, it was going to be short. She had to get her facts, and spin her angle before the morning news cycle, then resume the next night.</p><p>Eric looked at his psychic friend, sitting in the dining room alone. Her white pristine shirt had soot stains all over it, and her hair was covered in dust. Eric's shirt was ruined too, hence why he didn't wear any, just his leather jacket zipped up to his chest.</p><p>They all heard the click-clack of heels approaching from the outside. Just by the pace of it, they knew Nan Flanagan was pissed off even before she walked in the house.</p><p>"Alright, dickwads, which one of you is going to explain what the hell is going on here?"</p><p>"Nice seeing you too, Nan." Eric greeted, already disliking her tone.</p><p>The feeling was mutual. "What the fuck are <em>you</em> doing here? This isn't even your Area-"</p><p>"Miss Flanagan," Godric thankfully interrupted because Eric was <em>not</em> going to hold back his tongue, not to her. "Thank you for coming."</p><p>"Well, you are <em>not</em> welcome, Godric. Do you have any idea of the absolute fucking nightmare I'm going to have to deal with?" Nan studied the warzone she found herself in with a look of disgust on her face. "I was debriefed on the plane you had gone missing and was found captive at the Fellowship of Sun, is that correct? Please tell me I flew all the way here to nail Steve Newlin down three pegs-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Godric!" Eric hissed. What the fuck was he doing?</p><p>"No to which part? Were you not taken, not found captive or not at the Fellowship?"</p><p>"I went to the Church willingly," Godric told her. The whole room fell silent. Even Nan who always had an answer for everything looked at him confused. "I sought the Revered in hopes to make amends between our kind."</p><p>"Oh," Nan seemed happy with his response. "We can use that."</p><p>"But you won't."</p><p>"You bet your ass I'm going to. We can use your little… Missionary mission to show good faith on our side, and elude there's more to this Church than meets the eye. I have friends at Homeland Security. <em>God,</em> I'm gonna fuck the Newlins so hard-"</p><p>"This is wrong!" Godric pleaded. "Humans have suffered enough at our hands, must we blame this on them too?"</p><p>"Uhm... Yes?! Everyday vampires are killed by humans with total impunity. We are treated like fucking scum! They hunt us like goddamn animals."</p><p>"We are no better," his Maker said, finally raising this voice. "All of this is just the consequence of our own actions. Steven Newlin only hates us so much because Stan killed his father. Don't you get it? If you go after them it will never end."</p><p>"I don't give two shits about Stan fucking Baker. Anyone who met him in the past 300 years knew he had a kink for killing humans and <em>yet</em> you kept him around in your nest. Now you bet your fucking ass I'm going after the Newlins."</p><p>"There's no proof this was the Fellowship!" He argued. "They are just normal people, not some kind of terrorist organization-"</p><p>"Actually," a voice chimed in from the dining room. "I have proof."</p><p>Olivia walked in, cell phone in hand.</p><p>"Who the fuck are you? Why is there a human here?"</p><p>"She's the one who found Godric," Eric told her, making Isabel's eyebrows arch. "What do you have?"</p><p>Olivia joined their little circle in the middle of the living room, where there used to be furniture about two hours ago. She pressed some buttons on her phone and a voice recording started playing. It began with her own voice.</p><p>"<em>I'm Anne Hess, and I consent to this recording."</em></p><p>"<em>Miss Hess! Welcome!"</em></p><p>"<em>Hello, hi, call me Anne."</em></p><p>"<em>I'm Sarah Newlin, Steven's wife. Are you George's daughter?"</em></p><p>The recording went on and on. It was mostly Olivia kissing ass and the Newlins loving every lick of it. He prayed there was a point to it. Judging by the intense look on Olivia's face, there would be. But then...</p><p>"<em>We gather all the vampire monsters we can and hold our Light celebration. We watch our God do what he does best. We watch 'em burn."</em></p><p>"<em>It's right at the Church, last month we had 3 vampires meet the sun, and it was so beautiful! The way they burned right in front of the stained glass window was absolutely magnificent, I swear you can feel God's presence all around you!"</em></p><p>"<em>I would love to…"</em></p><p>"<em>The next one is next weekend, and we only got one vampire so far, but Steve and the boys from Church camp are going to Oklahoma this week for more!"</em></p><p>"<em>Oh yeah, baby! It's open season!"</em></p><p>"<em>Sorry, why Oklahoma?"</em></p><p>"<em>Oh, this one is interesting. You see, vampires organize themselves in these feudal-type systems. They have their own little areas they care of-"</em></p><p>"<em>Right."</em></p><p>"<em>And they watch out for vamps in their own little squares. But if you take vamps from other areas, they just assume they left town."</em></p><p>"<em>For creatures so old, they ain't so clever, are they?"</em></p><p>"<em>And… How do you know if they committed crimes?"</em></p><p>"<em>Oh Anne, don't be silly. They are vampires. They are guilty by their very existence. They aren't God's children and they don't deserve to be here."</em></p><p>"<em>That is truly impressive Mr. and Mrs. Newlin. Wow! I had no idea the Fellowship did… All of this. Does this mean another Church in Oklahoma hunts vampires here? So you keep each other safe?"</em></p><p>"<em>Yes, actually we have two congregations who hunt vampires in Northern Texas. Lord of Light in Texarkana, and Lakemont in Shreveport, though I doubt they ever made it as far as Dallas. They probably get all the vampires they need in Longview or Paris. I think Dallas vampires are a bit out of their league. Marc Sheldon and I were working on a side project to remedy that, with the plane crash and everything."</em></p><p>"<em>What do you mean?"</em></p><p>"<em>Well... I know it's not particularly Kosher, but Sheldon was a skilled private pilot who intended to crash the aircraft at a strategic location, rather than a cornfield. We were going to destroy an entire nest of vamps - the Carmilla hotel-"</em></p><p>Olivia stopped the tape, but no one said anything for a very long time. Eric was a bit shocked at what he had just heard. It<em> was</em> all connected. The pilot, the Church, all of it. They were kidnapping vampires and killing them in public in broad daylight as some kind of sacrificial ritual to God. And if that weren't enough, they wanted to kill vampires in masses by bombing the Carmilla hotel. The bomb at Godric's was just child's play. He could see the gears spinning in Nan Flanagan's head.</p><p>"Holy fucking shit!" She yelped. It was as if she had done a very long line of coke because Nan was <em>wired.</em> She narrowed on Olivia as if she were the last person on earth. "Are you willing to go on the stand and verify this recording in court? Because this is <em>it</em>! This is the nail on their fucking coffin!"</p><p>"No, because I rather not commit perjury." Olivia declared.</p><p>"This tape is fabricated?!" Nan roared.</p><p>"No, because I'm not Anne Hess," Olivia explained calmly. "But I'm sure the real one who works at Hess-Cannon &amp; Associates Chartered Accountants could be easily glamoured into doing so. Neither the Church nor their house has cameras, so even the Newlins claim the woman on the stand is an impostor, it's their word against Anne's, and she's not the one on trial. I'm not a lawyer, but I think your chances of getting them with domestic terrorism are pretty good."</p><p>She was fucking brilliant. Olivia had crafted a bomb of her own and signed someone else's name on it. She had gone above and beyond from what he had asked her to do.</p><p>What did he want, she had asked? Eric Northman wanted <em>her</em>.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.:</p><p>What a SPICY chapter! This has been one of my favorites so far ngl. Just Liv doing what Liv does best.</p><p>Til next time my lovelies</p><p>xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Make Me Wanna Die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The look of defeat on Godric's face was making Olivia uncomfortable. She didn't fully understand why on earth he was trying to protect the Newlins so much. Why was he acting like vampires deserved to be killed? Sure they were monsters more often than not, but clearly, the vampire hadn't met the Mexican cartel - or <em>any</em> cartel, for that matter. Still, she couldn't fight off the feeling she had betrayed his wishes by giving Nan Flanagan the audio recording. <strong>Rule 13: always have legal standing blackmail material</strong> had saved her more than once, but this one time it just didn't sit quite right.</p><p>Isabel went home, Eric had gone to rest for the day in one of Godric's many guest bedrooms, Nan Flanagan left with her PR team to set up the AVL's statement. Olivia was ready to head back to the hotel and pass out. However, she was absolutely dying of thirst and also starving. Olivia figured she would at least fix herself a quick snack before hitting up a drive-through. She went through Godric's pantry in the kitchen and found everything <em>but</em> food in the cabinets. His kitchen was storage for books, a variety of decorative vases and candles, office supplies, some vinyl records and odds and ends. Judging by his age Godric didn't need much blood to survive at all, so keeping human companions was of no use. Thus, no food.</p><p>She managed to find a glass and filled it with cold tap water over the kitchen sink. She was more parched than she thought because she drank 3 full glasses before noticing Godric was standing in the garden out back, looking at the horizon. He was shirtless, his body was small-framed but in impeccable form. He also had more tattoos than she thought. Black symbols were etched on both his arms and down his spine. The sky was starting to change colors, from deep blue to pale yellow and bright orange. Olivia ran outside through the wide doors off the dining room.</p><p>"Godric!" She called out. What the <em>hell</em> was he doing?!</p><p>He looked at her, still with the same peaceful expression he always had. He said nothing. The two of them just stood quietly in the garden, Olivia felt the tall dewy grass wet the hem of her jeans. Birds started chirping, awakening with the morning. She then realized what Godric was doing. He was getting his Light Celebration.</p><p>"Godric, come inside." She told him.</p><p>"Tell Eric, if love were enough I'd still be here-"</p><p>"Tell him yourself!" Olivia retorted, feeling angry all of a sudden. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing. "He will never believe me if I tell him you ended yourself at dawn. Or worse! He will believe me and kill me for letting you go."</p><p>Godric suddenly chuckled. "It would be a very Eric thing to do. Kill for love, that is."</p><p>Or for hatred. Or annoyance. Or a minor inconvenience. Or because it was a day that ended in Y. "Godric, come on, go rest inside."</p><p>He shook his head, still looking at the sky. "I can't shake off everything the Reverend made me listen to. All those stories, all those people. So much pain, and anguish and-"</p><p>"Money," Olivia stated. That made Godric shut up and finally look at her. "Steven and Sarah Newlin have increased their parsonage allowance to 3.8 million dollars last year, absolutely tax-free. They live in a luxurious ranch-style mansion on 40 acres of land, they wear expensive clothes and don't even bother to hide it. All their employees have signed NDAs that forbid them to discuss the Church finances with anyone, which leads me to believe they probably commit tax evasion or fraud, shall I go on?"</p><p>"What… Does it have to do with the atrocities my kind has done? Because we have done it all, Olivia. We even <em>brag</em> about it-"</p><p>"I'm not saying vampires are angels. I'm saying the Newlins make money selling and fostering hatred for you. They have high membership fees, plus thite, plus heavily encourage everyone to donate extra on top of it, I've seen their 990-T forms. To let people go down to the basement and tell you their stories, I would bet my <em>life</em> they had to pay to see you. Sure, Steven losing his dad and getting no justice for it was probably horrible. But financially, he's made a pretty sweet deal out of it."</p><p>Godric frowned, quietly thoughtful. The sky was getting brighter by the second. If it weren't for the tall garden walls surrounding his house, and the tall bamboo trees sheltering the rising light, he would have been dust already. But he didn't have much time left, minutes maybe. "Will you come inside now?"</p><p>But the vampire did not move. He just faced the garden wall, looking at the sunshine rays washing down closer. It was like watching the countdown on a time bomb. She tried to take his arm gently but she heard the loud click of fangs descending as a warning. He did not want to be touched.</p><p>She didn't take the threat lightly either, as on the next second something within her snapped. "For fuck's sakes Godric, you aren't Jesus! Dying for your sins will do <em>nothing!</em>"</p><p>Something inside Godric seemed to have snapped too. In a blur, he turned around and faced her, standing so close their noses almost touched. It was the first time he had raised his voice this evening. "If you've seen what I've seen, you'd understand! This world is broken-"</p><p>"Then fix it!" She ordered him and Godric got eerily quiet, studying her every breath. God, she sounded just like father. "Condemn vampire on human cruelty, just like you do with other laws-"</p><p>"The Magister doesn't care about humans, he won't-"</p><p>"But you do!" She was now shouting. "You are the Sheriff of Area 9 and probably the oldest vampire in existence! Fuck the Magister and what he thinks! It's <em>your</em> Area, and if vampires don't like your rules, then they can leave."</p><p>Godric glanced one more time at his high garden wall, then back at her. Suddenly she felt the air move and he was gone. All she caught was a blur entering the house. Alone in the garden, she finally let out a breath she had been hiding the entire conversation. <em>Holy shit</em> vampires were stressful. A whole different kind of stressful. The sun finally came up, radiating its light all through the garden, kissing Olivia's face and neck. Birds were chirping, the darkness of the night was melting away like snow. It made her remember the last sunrise she watched. As she felt tears flood her eyes at the memory, she walked back inside. It was time to go home.</p><p>She caught Godric was making his way down to the sleeping quarters as she crossed the destroyed and mauled home on her way to the driveway. He was halfway down a set of glamorous stairs going into the basement, returning into the darkness he belonged to.</p><p>"Thank you, Olivia," he muttered, only turning halfway. "Sorry to have worried you. Promise not to tell Eric? I fear he wouldn't be so…"</p><p>"Understanding?" She asked. He nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. "I won't tell him if you promise to stay away from the Fellowship."</p><p>"You have my word." At this, his eyes met hers. Godric was truly a beautiful young man. She knew Godric and Eric weren't blood-related, but he was <em>so </em>different from his progeny. He was so kind, and respectful and sweet. "Will I see you again?"</p><p>She wished for a moment to be <em>his</em> accountant instead. A fleeting wish, she knew she would someday crave the chaos. Still. "I hope so."</p><p>"Me too," and with a small smile Godric disappeared downstairs and the house fell into the quiet abyss of the dead.</p><hr/><p>Eric rose lazily from the bed, pushing off the black silk sheets. He sat up for a second getting a hold of where he was for a minute. It wasn't often he woke up in a place other than his own bed. He reached for his phone - a text from Olivia: <em>Arrived safe in Shreveport. See you soon</em>.</p><p>All of last night came rushing to the surface all at once. The party, the bomb, Olivia, Nan, the tape, all of it. Godric was safe, time to go back to reality. He wandered the home in the dark, which seemed completely empty - no party, no guests, no nest. All the living room furniture was gone, along with all the debris from the explosion. The walls had been wiped clean with bleach, making this room once again a clean slate. His day-staff was quick on the trigger.</p><p>He found his Maker sitting quietly in his dark office, perched over the desk scribbling away on a multitude of papers under the single light of an old banker's lamp. Godric's office was no larger than his own at Fangtasia, but much better decorated with mid-century modern furniture featuring rich teaks and walnuts, and a floor to ceiling window behind, facing a small rock garden. The TV was on, Nan Flanagan's constipated face was staring at him, her lips spewing her usual bullshit but luckily the TV was muted.</p><p>"No rest for the wicked," Eric leaned on the door frame, hands in the pockets, watching Godric furiously writing as if his thoughts would disappear forever if he didn't get them all out on paper.</p><p>His Maker did not look up when he spoke. "Lots of work to be done, childe."</p><p>A deep silence crept in, stretching time out like gravity. In fact, they just existed in the same room for what it felt like a whole year. Godric just kept writing page after page, completely indifferent at Eric's presence. It was as if the time they spent apart meant nothing at all. The last time the two had spent this much time in the same room was winter 1944 on an off-off-<em>off </em>book mission for the Authority in Germany, and even then the two barely said a word to each other unrelated to their task. They crossed paths at the odd Gala or elite party here and there, plus that one time Godric came to Shreveport for a quick hello on his way to Montgomery on a diplomatic mission on his King's behalf. But other than that, it had been 300 years since they had a fucking sincere conversation. One that ended with his release.</p><p>Eric felt bitter, borderline angry. What could possibly be so important he couldn't take <em>one</em> good look at Eric? Or would he need Olivia's presence to get Godric to speak too? The way he looked at her or even the fact he even <em>talked</em> to her made a small but deep part of him resent her. Had she any idea of who Godric really is? <em>What</em> he really was? He was one of the greatest men to have ever lived. He built empires because he was bored, and then destroyed them for fun. It made Eric question who exactly was sitting on that chair. Eric had made Olivia find Godric, but he wasn't so sure now of who she found in the Church's basement.</p><p>Eric walked right up to his desk. "So here's a quick question, what the fuck is going on with you?"</p><p>That got his attention, his pen stopped. Eric paced nervously around the room, Godric's eyes still haven't left the paper. Eric could feel the air thicken and his chest tighten, fearing what Godric would say next. His Maker's lack of reaction made his knuckles itch to break something. <em>Do something. Say something.</em></p><p>But he didn't. All he gave was more silence, more nothing. He didn't seem indifferent at his presence, Godric looked <em>annoyed.</em> How fucking<em> dared</em> he? "Look at me," Eric demanded.</p><p>He could tell his gaze went up begrudgingly. "I have work to do, Eric."</p><p>"Oh, I can only imagine it really piled up while you were away on your self-pity retreat."</p><p>"Eric, I am <em>trying</em> to make amends-"</p><p>"No!" He interrupted sharply. "No more excuses, or nods across the room or polite hellos in passing. I think I deserve a bit more than that from you."</p><p>Godric let out a heavy sigh. "Don't you think I've given you enough grief, my childe?"</p><p>"Grief? Is that what we are calling it these days?" Godric stared at him with cold eyes. "Wanna make amends? Start with me."</p><p>Eric sat on the sleek low couch across the room as the silence grew tenfold. No heartbeats, not a single breath. Even the single lampshade shining it's soft yellow light got dimmer. His deep brown eyes looked at him for longer than they had in the past three hundred years. The pain Eric buried away was starting to awaken.</p><p>"I am sorry, Eric," he finally muttered.</p><p>It was not enough. "For?"</p><p>Another pause. Another year passed. And when he spoke, Eric wished he hadn't. "For not loving you better. I am sorry for only nurturing the darker veins in you, and cutting off the softer ones. I am sorry for selfishly making you think <em>I</em> was all there was to be loved. I'm sorry for grooming you for power, for moulding you into ruthlessness and deceitfulness. I'm sorry for teaching you to find comfort in vengeance, blood and tears. I'm sorry if I made you think I was a role model to be followed. I'm sorry that I made you think being the child of <em>death was something to be joyful of."</em></p><p>Eric only noticed there were tears in his eyes once they rolled off down his cheek. Centuries imagining how this conversation would go, countless times fearing this exact scenario. Godric felt shame and disappointment at who Eric had so proudly become. He felt like his whole existence was a joke, a failed attempt.</p><p>"Oh is that all?"</p><p>"I still stand by releasing you," those words pierced him like another stab wound. "If I've learned anything this weekend, it was that."</p><p>"I don't understand you, Godric!" Eric got up in an explosion of anger, ready to storm out and never come back. But his body was frozen, unwilling to let go of the past.</p><p>"You managed to find your way to the person you were always meant to become."</p><p>Clearly no thanks to him. The two stewed in the silence a while longer. Eric wiped away his tears, feeling his body and mind go numb. After his own Maker released him, Eric wandered the world lost. He had no idea of who he was, or what he was, or what he was for, if not to hunt, fuck and kill. It wasn't until he found Pamela, another soul who was as lost as him, that he found purpose again.</p><p>"Aren't you happy with who you are, my child? You are what hundreds of vampires aspire to be, a respected Sheriff, a wonderful Maker. Aren't you happy with the life you built for yourself?"</p><p>Eric scoffed, shaking his head. It's like he didn't know him at all. Eric walked away, parting ways with his Maker and shoving away the sadness he felt towards Godric back to the place it belonged. When he thought of his return to Shreveport, a certain annoying redhead came to mind.</p><p>He stopped by the door for a second, glancing over his shoulder at the stranger who had yet to see what Eric had become. "It's just a sandcastle, Godric."</p><p>Not an empire yet.</p><hr/><p>Olivia must have visited every small business in Shreveport, and much to her disappointment she got it all done in a week. There simply weren't that many left after the recession in a town of merely 200 thousand people. She was determined to scout new business to diversify Northman's portfolio because laundering everything through Fangtasia alone was a piss poor plan - especially considering how much drug money he and the Queen were making, and how much Fangtasia was not. So far she had her eye on a small strip mall with three commercial spaces, and the whole infrastructure was incredibly run down (which was a plus in her books). There were also some restaurants in the area that looked promising.</p><p>She hadn't stepped foot in Fangtasia since before the Dallas trip or had seen Eric since. But that didn't stop her wildly inappropriate dreams any. Olivia always had a higher sex drive, and these dreams were filling her up with a certain chaotic horny energy she had never experienced before. She hated the idea of dating again, but something had to be done to prevent the catastrophic situation of her <em>actually </em>fulfilling her dream's wishes. <em>Goddamn vampire blood.</em></p><p>Olivia was wearing her Fendi jeans (her new favorite, courtesy of Eric Northman) and an ivory silk shirt along with her favourite pink pumps and matching pink lipstick and headed to Fangtasia on another hot Louisiana night. It was now early summer but the weather must have gotten a different memo because it was already as hot as a dog's breath, even at night. This was life in Louisiana: just hoping from AC to AC and hope your makeup and hair last in between.</p><p>Fangtasia was already open, a small crowd was smoking outside, dressed as the cast of Lost Boys. In her opinion, there was just one thing creepier than vampires, and that was vampire groupies and vamp wannabes. One woman who intensely glared at her with visible distaste had bite marks all over her body, sending shivers down Olivia's spine. As she passed, she raised her mind's shield fearing for what she may hear from these strangers. She strutted right in, making her way straight to the stage where the Viking sat. Olivia wasn't sure if they changed the lighting, or maybe he had just fed, but Eric looked absolutely radiant. His dirty blond hair was pushed back. He wore black as usual, a heavy leather jacket with a deep neck tank underneath. She forgot to breathe all together once he smirked at her. He was taking all of Olivia in with his hungry eyes, undressing her shirt with his mind, button by button.</p><p>"Long time no see," he was sunk in his large chair, brilliant eyes piercing right through her.</p><p>He knew damn well she could not say the same. Eric visited her head every night, without fail. Ignoring this, nodded at the side hallway. "Shall we start?"</p><p>Eric nodded to Pam who was serving drinks at the bar and the three of them walked down the narrow hallway, Liv leading. She walked tall, chin up, shoulders open. It was good to get that last bit jolt of testosterone before client presentations.</p><p>Olivia sat on the guest chair in front of the desk. Pam sat on the couch near her, with her resting bitch face as usual. She wore a skin-tight latex dress with a mock neck, cap sleeves and an open chest, hair up in a high bun with two intricately carved chopsticks, along with blood-red tassel earrings and the highest pumps she had ever seen. Pam had a delicate and dainty face, along with an Amazon sculpted body and she had a demeanor of a dominatrix or an assassin or both. Intimidating did not fully cover it.</p><p>Eric sat behind his desk, leaned back in his chair as far as it could go. The two vampires measured her with their eyes, waiting. It was time to start. She opened her briefcase. "I've made an assessment of your Blackbook income and found 3 different suitable businesses to add to your portfolio," she handed each of them a folder with purchase documents, photos and a quick summary of their accounts. They both eagerly snatched it off her hands.</p><p>Eagerness was a good sign. That was until Pam spoke. "A fucking strip mall?"</p><p>Olivia tried not to slump her shoulders. That was supposed to be the crown jewel of the presentation. "Sure it's not anything fancy, it needs renovations-"</p><p>"No shit, I've seen dumpsters that look better than this."</p><p>"But that's a good thing! With the right contractor, we can start laundering money through the renovation right away. Every business in the strip mall is also cash-heavy- a hairdresser, a dog groomer and a convenience store. You can launder money through those too, in the long term."</p><p>"Is this it?" Eric asked quietly.</p><p>"Plus a couple of family restaurants. The combination of this folder is suitable for the size of your drug money income, with room to grow."</p><p>"But it's just all so…Unsexy," Eric pushed back.</p><p>"You don't have to be publicly associated with any of these businesses or even ever set foot in them," in fact it was probably better that he didn't.</p><p>"What about Fangtasia? Can't we do it all through the bar?"</p><p>"No, for many reasons."</p><p>"Let's hear it."</p><p>"Well for starters, this amount of fraud and illegal all concentrated in one business is risky enough, especially considering this place gets raided already. Secondly, Fangtasia is borderline profitable-"</p><p>"Excuse me?" Pam chimed in. "You've been here enough times, this place is full every night we're open. Fangtasia is the <em>only</em> bar that serves Tru Blood in a 20-mile radius-"</p><p>"Which you sell for 15 dollars a bottle and it still only makes up for 8% of your profit margins. Your vampire customers don't come here to drink synthetic blood, they come here to drink your… Other customers. Meaning 60% of the people downstairs don't spend a dime in this place."</p><p>"Isn't that the whole point of you? To make Fangtasia <em>look</em> profitable?"</p><p>"The whole point of me is to not get <em>us</em> arrested. Unless this place seriously increases its legal cash flow, I won't consider cooking up the books. Not with the feds watching, it's not worth the risk."</p><p>More silence. Tough crowd, she expected Northman to bend a bit easier than this after their romantic Dallas weekend. Hadn't she earned his trust by now?</p><p>"Let's say the feds aren't a problem, how do you suggest we increase legal cash flow?"</p><p>Olivia swallowed dry. A whole new business strategy for Fangtasia <em>was not</em> in her plan, at least not now. "Well, serving food-"</p><p>"Absolutely not," Eric retorted. "There's a reason vampires don't hang up at pubs, and that's because the stench of human food is nauseating."</p><p>"Well, you can charge cover at the door. Like you said, this is the only place vampires hang out in, they ought to look like they are here for the True blood, fulfilling the mainstreaming agenda and all. And the human clientele doesn't come for Pam's margaritas. They come to…" Fuck? Be eaten? "Mingle with vampires."</p><p>"Okay, what else?" Eric tossed the papers on his desk and his eyes narrowed on her.</p><p>What else? What did he mean, <em>what else</em>? The folder she so carefully prepared required a 900k investment, multiple purchase agreements, hiring contractors, lease restructuring… Olivia must have been quiet for too long because Eric spoke again, dissatisfied. "You said you'd give me an empire. Where is it, Olivia?"</p><p>The way he spoke her name, slow and deep, made the room feel suddenly hot. Olivia wondered what had changed for Eric to hop on board with her plan so quickly. It caught her a bit off guard, but she wasn't about to backtrack on her words. She promised Eric Northman an empire when they were in Dallas and now she had to deliver. Failure was <em>not</em> an option.</p><p>This wasn't the first time a client thought her plans were lame or plain. They were supposed to be unexciting. It was money laundering 101: lay low and don't attract attention to yourself. Also don't buy a chain of nail salons, or car washes, or laundromats. The IRS loves to audit those because they smell of tax evasion, and they are bloodthirsty hounds. They are just too obvious, thank Al Capone for that.</p><p>Okay, Eric Northman wanted a sexy plan, she was going to give him sexy. It wasn't going to make her PR efforts any easier later, but she had to work with what she got. If they didn't agree to this, she was dead on the water.</p><p>"A strip club," she finally caved. "Along with everything else that's on the folder, we turn Fangtasia into a strip club."</p><p>Eric and Pam immediately looked at each other, a small smile slowly grew on the vampires' faces.</p><p>"Well shit, Carson." Pamela leered at her in an unnerving way only she could. "You should have started with that."</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.: So Godric lives to see another chapter! But worry not, he will be back later - I've got plans for him.</p><p>And speaking of plans, the next plots will be off True Blood script for a while, I hope you're on board with that :)</p><p>until the next chapter angels xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Double Dare Ya</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was one single decent restaurant in all of Shreveport, and it was the Rabbiteye at the Fairview Hotel. It was a historical Manor turned luxury Inn, or at least what people in this part of Louisiana thought luxury was. The place was nice enough, the food was good, so Olivia made dinner reservations for 2. It was going to be either this or the freaking Crab Shack in Bossier, across the river.</p><p>Since Olivia lacked a conventional office she had to take meetings at restaurants. Her daily workspace took over her own dining room because 1) who eats at the dinner table anymore? 2) she can only cook breakfast foods anyway and 3) who was she going to invite over for dinner? The only people she knew in Shreveport don't eat food. Besides, in New York taking meetings over lunch and dinner at the next trendy place was totally normal.</p><p>Not here though. Tonight she was meeting Portia Bellefleur, a local lawyer, to finish off the purchase agreements for Eric. Portia thought it was very strange Olivia did not have an office. But she got with the program real quick once Olivia offered to meet at Fangtasia instead.</p><p>Portia was a short brunette, with long shiny brown hair and boring office clothes - white button-up, black pencil skirt and small pearl earrings. She looked like a small-town journalist interviewing - and don't mind the vanity - an LA celebrity. Olivia was wearing her favourite pink champagne silk wrap dress and her Jimmy Choo gold boots. She explained the future acquisition plans, and Portia was going to deliver the purchase drafts and contact the respective owners. Their business talk took most of the evening, and of course, Olivia kept all the information squeaky clean. No signs of illegal activity whatsoever. She didn't tell her why the IKEA Mafia wanted to expand their portfolio, and Portia didn't ask. Olivia liked that.</p><p>She was nice enough for polite conversation, but Portia had this permanent uneasy air about her as if she were dying to ask something but was too scared to. Like she had a frog stuck on her throat and she just wouldn't let it out. No matter how many times Olivia got burned by peeking into people's thoughts, she just couldn't help herself - she just <em>had</em> to do it. Getting answers was as easy as breathing and she was a curious cat.</p><p>
  <em>I wonder if she's fucking him.</em>
</p><p>Ah, yes. And every time Olivia was let down by what people thought of her. "Have you met him? My client?" Liv asked while flagging the waiter down for the bill.</p><p>"I've seen Mr. Northman outside of his club a couple of times, but I haven't had the, ah… Pleasure," Portia glanced down and back up. <em>Just fucking ask already.</em> "What's he like?" She smiled shyly, like a middle school girl asking about her crush.</p><p>"Difficult," which in industry terms it means he's an Asshole, capitalized.</p><p>"Oh-" she gave a nervous laugh, knowing exactly what she meant. "Have you worked with many vampires before?"</p><p>"Just one, other than Mr. Northman and his progeny. You?"</p><p>"Oh Goodness, no!" She went bright red. She was one of those uppity judgemental types. How boring. "Well, I guess Mr. Northman would be the first,"</p><p>"Ah! A virgin," Olivia joked.</p><p><em>Shit! Shit! Shit! How does she know?! Is it that obvious?</em> Portia's thoughts started to race with fear, shame and an overwhelming sense of inadequacy - just like a middle school girl. Olivia had to bite back the urge to laugh - that would be <em>very</em> mean. She did a double-take on the woman's face, who was now chugging the rest of her wine nervously. Portia looked to be around Olivia's age, how the hell was she <em>still a virgin?!</em> How did she survive law school without getting laid?! Portia was plain but pretty enough, slim, nice hair - what was the deal here? Christian? Asexual? Waiting for The One™, or marriage? Maybe clinically insane?</p><p>"Well, luckily for you, you'll only have to deal with me," the lawyer's shoulders slumped slightly. "Unless… You want to meet Mr. Northman?"</p><p>Good God say no.</p><p>"Oh, no, that's okay, thanks," Olivia breathed in relief. Eric would eat this little virgin alive. "Don't you… Uh, get scared… Being like, alone with him?" Her big brown doe-eyes studied her from across the table.</p><p>She felt a lot of things being alone with him. Literally saved by the bell, the waiter came in with the bill which Olivia paid in full.</p><p>"Are you sure?" Portia asked wide-eyed, getting a glimpse of the receipt.</p><p>"Oh yeah, business expense."</p><p>The two women stepped outside, waiting for valets to bring their cars around. Olivia's pulled in first.</p><p>"I see why you work for vampires now-" Portia said with a mildly malicious tone in her voice. Took Liv a second to understand what she meant - she was envious of her car.</p><p>In her head, Portia was no longer wondering if Olivia and Eric Northman were fucking - she was certain of it, and she was both disgusted and jealous of it. Why was it that <em>every fucking time</em> Olivia looked professionally accomplished, people always assumed it was done so by her spreading her legs? Olivia wanted to chew her out but had to bite her tongue. People were allowed to have <em>thoughts</em>, as long as they chose not to say them out loud was her father's golden rule. Still, in her heart, it made no difference if she heard it with her ears or her brain. It always hurt all the same.</p><p>"I expect the closing papers by the end of the week, yes?" Olivia said stiffly, getting in the car.</p><p>"Sure, my office will contact yours-" Portia said, only to remember Olivia didn't have an office. She hoped the lawyer felt stupid.</p><p>Liv revved the engine slightly just because she could (and Portia's Toyota Camry couldn't) as she pulled out of the Fairview Hotel's driveway. She wasn't done with work yet, however. Liv had one more stop to make, as per Pamela's request. She had to pick someone up and bring them to her at Fangtasia for a work meeting. She wasn't entirely happy being their chauffeur, but billable hours were billable hours, and Pam guaranteed her it was a work-related thing, not one of their wild side quests like Dallas.</p><p>The address took her all the way across town, to a rundown strip mall. Olivia had to stop describing everything in Shreveport as "rundown" - everything here was rundown. Financial collapse was this city's aesthetic. She pulled up to the final destination and had to do a double, no - a triple take at the sign that hung above the street number, she was at the right place.</p><p>Pam had asked Olivia to pick one Debbie Pelt from what turned to be Bail-EZ Bonds."Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me."</p><p>Olivia was severely overdressed for this little errand. She stepped into the dark straight out of the 70s low budget Bail Bond office. The place was small, no bigger than her dry cleaner, and it reeked of stale cigarettes. It had sterile lighting, papers and boxes everywhere, worn-out green golden carpet, grey with dust at the edges. Football was playing in a tiny tube TV in the corner, half-buried in a mountain of takeout containers and fast-food paper bags.</p><p>A man in his 60s with teeth missing and a scraggly beard came to the counter from who knows where outback. He was wearing a cheap polyester polo with yellow armpit stains and had a cigarette tucked behind his left ear. He didn't look like a Debbie Pelt.</p><p><em>Fucking </em>Pamela was really going to make her bail someone out of jail. Olivia <em>really </em>had to stop doing them favors.</p><p>"Evenin' miss. What can I do for ya?" The man's voice was hoarse for years of smoking.</p><p>Was she really going to do this? She imagined Pam's reaction if she didn't obey her request. Eric, she could put up with, but Pam? She didn't quite want to find out. "I'm here for Debbie Pelt."</p><p>"Alright, let's see what we got here," the man opened a book ledger and she died a little further inside. This place still did ledgers? This was the fucking 70s. "Ah, Deborah Susan Pelt?"</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>"Alright alright…" He started to enter numbers into the printing calculator. Much to her grievance, he was typing <em>a lot</em> of numbers into the damn thing. "That'd be fourteen."</p><p>Whew, the relief. "Do you take credit card?" Olivia started to search for her wallet in her clutch.</p><p>"You goin' put that on card?"</p><p>"It's fourteen hundred dollars, no?"</p><p>"Fourteen <em>thousand</em>, miss," the man smiled, the teeth he had left were all yellow.</p><p>"What did Debbie do? Rob the city bank?!"</p><p>"Possession an' sum parking tickets."</p><p>What the actual fuck? That was an <em>expensive</em> ass meeting Pamela. "Fourteen grand for some weed and parking tickets?"</p><p>She glanced outside - the sun was still setting, but it wouldn't be dark for another 40 minutes or so. Olivia didn't want to spend another minute at Bail-EZ Bonds. She actually was surprised her car wasn't broken into in the 5 minutes she spent in this hellhole already.</p><p>"Weed? Nah, she had like 6 flasks of vamp juice or somethin'."</p><p>Olivia's blood went cold. Debbie was a V blood junkie, possibly a dealer who got arrested with their product - it all made sense now, but God fucking dammit if she wasn't annoyed. "<em>Fine</em>, give me a minute," Jesus Christ. Olivia angrily typed in her phone, transferring the funds to the right account.</p><p>"I'll need ID too, miss."</p><p>She slid her favorite fake ID and matching black credit card across the counter and started filling the paperwork. Fourteen fucking thousand dollars. Olivia doubted Pam wanted Debbie out of jail out of the goodness of her cold dead icy heart. If she were to take a guess, Debbie was <em>not</em> going to make it to her court date so she could possibly testify against the vampires. Meaning Olivia would never see a cent of this money back. She was <em>surely</em> going to bill Pam for this.</p><p>"You related to Debbie or somethin', Miss Crawford?"</p><p>"No," she gave the man his pile of papers back.</p><p>"Dang, miss Debbie sure got friends in high places. She's in Shreveport County, just 6 miles south outta town. I'll give 'em a call and let 'em know her bail's posted."</p><p>"Thanks," Olivia left the little hell hole and took a deep inhale of fresh air which momentarily made her less annoyed. She got in her car (which miraculously still had its rims and tires) and drove out of town, straight to the county jail.</p><p>As she pulled in, a blonde woman with tasteful 80s bangs was yelling at a man wearing slacks, shirt and tie in the middle of the parking lot. The man was probably the biggest, most muscular man she had ever seen. He had flowy brown hair and an impeccable beard with a bit of salt and pepper in it. She wished she had the inner strength of this man's shirt's buttons. They looked like they could burst open at any second, his chest and shoulders were puffed and chiselled like a model firefighter. He had a strong straight nose and dark eyes that could make her drool.</p><p>The sight of the Greek God made her almost forget all about the woman he was having the heated argument with. She was wearing scuffed ripped jeans and a crop top revealing a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Was Olivia about to test her luck? You bet.</p><p>She rolled down her windows. "Debbie Pelt?" The blonde turned around quickly. Of fucking course. "Get in."</p><p>The man protested and Debbie shoved him back, screaming her head off and waving a finger at him. She stormed away and hastily got into the car, shutting the door closed rather harshly. Olivia was about to scold the woman for it (her poor BMW), but she just picked up a junkie from jail. Best not to push it. Liv drove away, leaving the handsome hunk alone in the jail's parking lot.</p><p>"Who the fuck are you?" Maybe it was all the yelling, but Debbie had a hoarse loud voice.</p><p>"Your guardian angel, Ophelia Crawford," Olivia drove a little faster. It was officially night time now, and she had a very bad feeling about handing off Debbie to Pamela. She had to keep Debbie cool as a cucumber so she wouldn't do anything stupid. "Your lawyer contacted me, I'm part of a lobbying group trying to decriminalize vampire blood as an illegal drug. We think your case is exactly what we are looking for to set precedent."</p><p>"Wait. Really?" Her tone and posture changed. "Even with my priors?"</p><p>This woman was a mess. "100%, they're irrelevant."</p><p>"You're the one who paid my bail?"</p><p>Unfortunately. "Yes. How about we get a drink and I'll tell you all about it?"</p><p>"Uhm, you payin'? I don't have my wallet-"</p><p>"Of course, my treat."</p><p>"Cool."</p><p>Debbie didn't say much after that, other than she fidgeted a lot, like a big kid with ADD. She wanted to know more about the sex icon from the parking lot, so she tried to reach into the woman's mind, but it was murky in there, agitated dark waters. Not everyone was easily readable. She encountered this before, but it was rare. Liv pushed away the disappointment and just focused on the road back to town.</p><p>If she were to hand over Debbie to Pam, this poor woman was on a one-way ticket to Fangtasia's dungeon. And to make matters worse, <em>Olivia</em> was seen picking her up from county jail, after a woman matching her description, car and a fake ID paid 14k for her bail. Was Pamela out of her mind?! Unless… She designed it that way.</p><p>Olivia's knuckles went white from choking the steering wheel. She was walking through a field of landmines for them, expanding their business legally <em>and</em> illegally, knowing the feds and DEA were on their scent - getting backstabbed by her own client was the last thing she fucking needed right now.</p><p>"Actually," Olivia broke the silence. "I'm new in town and the only bar I know is kind of a shithole. Any suggestions?"</p><p>"Every bar in Shreveport is a bit of a shithole," she laughed. "But the one that stinks the least is the Rose Crown, been goin' there for years."</p><p>"Alright, let's do it."</p><p>Funnily enough, Olivia had recently become an expert in every business of Shreveport, so she knew where the Rose Crown was. It was one of the bars she thought about purchasing for Northman, but it had the reputation of being frequented by biker gangs, so it was a no-go. Debbie and Liv made small talk on their way to the Rose Crown. She was a waitress, originally from Jackson, Mississippi. She moved here years ago with her then-fiance Alcide Herveaux, the hunk in the parking lot.</p><p>"Why did you break up?" Olivia was being nosy, but the woman's head was a gloomy cloud.</p><p>She took a breath."Irreconcilable differences. My advice? Don't date a fuckin' narc."</p><p>This was definitely one of the times she wished she could have read her mind, but the murk in Debbie's head was thick as it got. She wondered how regular people lived with only getting the spoken answers to things. Olivia pulled into the Rose Crown's dark gravel parking lot, which was packed with pickup trucks and motorcycles, and men smoking under the blue neon lights by the door who eyed her car from afar. This was going to be a problem, especially if she walked into this bar dressed like this.</p><p>"I'll drop you off at the door, order me a beer and I'll be right in," Olivia told her, stopping the car.</p><p>Debbie must have read her face. "Oh, don't worry about 'em. The boys look rough but they don't bite… Hard." She winked. There was something she wasn't telling her, and her goddamn head was impossible to read.</p><p>"I just have to make a phone call before I head inside, I'll be quick."</p><p>The guys by the door cheered once Debbie approached, giving her pats on the shoulder and fist bumps. Olivia exited the lot and parked 100 feet down across the dark street, in front of a convenience store in the broad view of their street security cameras. If Debbie were to disappear off the streets tonight, she needed to <em>not</em> be the last person to be seen with Debbie.</p><p>Oliva picked her phone and dialled. Pam picked up after 3 rings. "<em>Hello, peaches,"</em></p><p>"There are easier ways to seduce me, you know?"</p><p>"<em>Oh-?"</em></p><p>"Now explain why you're trying to fuck me."</p><p>"<em>Oh, I don't know what you're talkin' about, all I asked-"</em></p><p>"All you asked was for me to bail someone out of jail which you <em>know</em> I'd use a fake ID but a real account for, get them at the county jail letting my car to be picked up on the parking lot cameras, then bring her to Fangtasia so you can turn her inside out making me the last person on record to see Debbie Pelt alive."</p><p>Pam was quiet for a moment, but Olivia could tell she was smiling on the other side. "<em>You really aren't as fun as you look, ya know?"</em></p><p>"I am climbing the fucking Everest for you and Eric, and I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't put bombs in my backpack."</p><p>"<em>For the Queen-</em>"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"<em>You are climbing for Queen."</em></p><p>"What difference does it make?!"</p><p>"<em>A world of fucking difference, actually."</em></p><p>"So what do you want me to do? Get on my knees and kiss Eric's ring?!"</p><p>"<em>Getting on your knees would be a start, darlin'. Now, where the fuck are you?"</em></p><p>"The Rose Crown."</p><p>"<em>You're fucking kiddin' me."</em> She sounded displeased, and that made Olivia angrier than it should. Pamela was pissed? The fucking nerve!</p><p>"I am <em>not</em> going down to the station to answer questions when Debbie's pieces are found in the Red River. I don't do cops, I thought I made that abundantly clear."</p><p>"<em>No you dumb cunt, Rose Crown is a fuckin' werewolf bar!"</em></p><p>Nevermind Pam's fury, the wheels in her mind started turning full speed. Debbie's clouded mind - chances were she was a werewolf too. Other supernatural beings always had hard to read minds, vampires being the only impossible ones. And the Rose Crown wasn't just a regular biker gang bar, it was probably a <em>werewolf</em> bar. The beef between vampires and werewolves was ancient and complex and far beyond her understanding. And now Olivia had brought Pam's dinner to the only place she couldn't get her. Question was, how much trouble was Olivia actually in?</p><p>"Not my problem, Pam. Debbie Pelt is out of jail, I put her in a place with plenty of possible murderers. Catch her at your earliest convenience, but I'm done running your play with only half the instructions, I'm out."</p><p>Another silence. Another smile. "<em>You don't get it yet, do you?"</em></p><p>"Get what, Pam?!" Olivia was getting real tired of this cat and mouse game. "I swear it's like you two get off on adding to my billable hours."</p><p>"<em>Oh darlin', what gets me off will disturb you on such a deep level that it's best we don't even talk about it."</em></p><p>And then the line went dead.</p>
<hr/><p>Olivia walked into her dark apartment and judging by how she tossed her keys on the table, dropped her briefcase on the floor and kicked her shoes off far into the hallway, she was frustrated and about seven shades of annoyed about her night. She walked into the apartment still in the pitch-black darkness, unbothered to turn the light on. His anticipation grew even more, but it was okay. He would just savour the moment when it happened.</p><p>He watched her wander into the kitchen and open the fridge door, its yellow soft light inundated the apartment like a lighthouse. She reached inside and pulled out a half-full bottle of white wine. She was wearing a light pink shiny wrap dress and long dangly gold earrings that got lost in her hair. Her silhouette was impeccable, the dress had a sexy thigh slit, his fingers trembled to touch it. He felt thirsty. Someday.</p><p>The second she turned around and spotted him he felt her loud fear, cutting through the fabric of their blood bond like a guillotine. Sharp, quick, violent incision of fear at the discovery he was inside her apartment.</p><p>"Eric!" She cursed angrily, followed by a loud crash on the kitchen floor.</p><p>She had dropped her wine bottle, sharp glass everywhere. He didn't notice his fangs were out until he smirked.</p><p>"Shit!" She cursed again, flustered, looking at the glass all over the floor and then back at him. Olivia didn't know what to do with herself.</p><p>He stood up from the dining room chair he was sitting on at the head of the table, straightening his jacket. He was really hoping she would have turned the lights on as soon as she got home, but human habits were foreign to him - hers included. Olivia carefully stepped over the broken glass and across her kitchen and turned on the lights under the kitchen's top cabinets, illuminating the counters before the fridge's door closed, avoiding being in the dark with him.</p><p>"What the <em>hell</em> are you doing in my apartment?! I've never invited you in!"</p><p>"I'm painfully aware," he found himself walking into the kitchen, feeling the broken glass crush further under the sole of his shoes.</p><p>"Then <em>how</em> are you here?" She was defiant as always, her back leaning on the corner of her kitchen, cornered by broken glass. And him.</p><p>"Guess."</p><p>She was quiet for once, heart rate coming back down despite him closing in on her. Another step closer, more glass shards multiplying under his feet.</p><p>"You… Bought my apartment? My landlord didn't notify me."</p><p>She looked up at him, uneasy but unafraid of him. It was hard to be mad at her when every fibre of his being wanted her so much. "I bought the whole building."</p><p>"When?"</p><p>"Not long after you moved in."</p><p>He liked this - being alone with her. They weren't alone since the hotel room in Dallas. Punishing her was going to be difficult, but she had disrespected Pamela so it was necessary. Can't have Olivia thinking she can disobey what she's told. But for now, he was enjoying watching the illusion of safety and power and control she had over herself break like a glass ceiling. And he knew how much Olivia seemed to love to break glass.</p><p>"When I asked for all your accounts, you didn't really give me all of it, did you?"</p><p>"All but one."</p><p>"And when you asked me to find Godric, I didn't really have a choice, did I? You'd have taken me anyway."</p><p>"Now you're getting it."</p><p>Olivia shuffled her weight on her feet, the slit on her dress closed. Disappointing. "What do you want? Why are you here?"</p><p>Images of him pushing Olivia onto the counter and having her legs wrap around his hips popped into his mind.</p><p>"You disobeyed me."</p><p>She frowned, pressing her lips hard. "You mean Pam's half-assed text?"</p><p>"Any and all requests from Pamela are to be taken as seriously as if I personally request them myself. She is my progeny and about the only person in this world I trust, so if she says bark, you bark. If she says sit, you sit. If she says bring Debbie Pelt to Fangtasia, you-"</p><p>"<em>I got it,</em>" she whispered through her teeth, he could see the anger coming off her body like sparks. "But I'm not going to burn myself for her <em>or</em> you."</p><p>"The edict-"</p><p>"Forces you to protect me against vampires, the cops are fair game. You really think I don't know about that little loophole? Now, if you are dissatisfied with my services just fire me, no need for these games."</p><p>He took the final step, they were now toe-to-toe. Oh, but these games are what he loved the most these days. "What? You don't trust me?"</p><p>"Not even a little bit."</p><p>His hands touched her hip bones, bringing her closer. She raised her forearms, finally fighting him off and pushing him away, scared of the monstrosities his soul definitely wanted to do. But all he did was pick her up off the floor.</p><p>"Eric, no! Stop, no, you-" she squirmed in his arms, her hand pushed his face away by grabbing him tightly on his jaw - or at least that's what she tried. Her heart rate exploded again. In the fight or flight game, she was fighting.</p><p>Two seconds later he put her down in the middle of the living room, and just like that she broke free from him - because he let her.</p><p>"Don't want you cutting your foot open on broken glass, now do we?" In all seriousness, if she did there was no edict of protection in this world that would have stopped him from devouring her. Her smell was hypnotizing, intoxicating, poisonous. Add her exposed blood to the mix and it would be an inevitable feast.</p><p>Olivia was flustered and took several steps back away from him. There was only one thing hotter than seeing her defy him, and it was to see her vulnerable. "What do you want, Eric? You want me to go back to the Rose Crown and get Debbie?"</p><p>"No, Pam's got it. Debbie has fulfilled her purpose."</p><p>She paused for a second, hesitating to ask what was Debbie's fate after all. "Then what do you want from me?"</p><p>The million-dollar question. "Your dress."</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"You heard me."</p><p>Another two steps back, wide-eyes stared back at him in the semi-lit room. "No."</p><p>"You disobeyed me, Olivia."</p><p>"Get out."</p><p>"I will," Eric started to slowly pace around her apartment. "All I want is your dress."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>He could feel her anger spark in the air again. Her reaction was the most entertained he's had in <em>years</em>. He picked up a book from her shelf and pretended to shuffle through it, prolonging her anguish. "Because," he put the book back and slowly made his way to her, who stood lonely in the middle of her living room. "You need to understand that <em>I</em> own you and <em>everything </em>about you. I own your apartment, I hold the lease to your car, I own your career, your time, I own your sleep, the blood in your veins, the air you breathe, and your clothes-"</p><p>He was right in front of her again, bodies almost touching. There was a special glimmer in her brown eyes, the same ones he had seen after he force-fed her his blood. Olivia Carson truly came alive when she plotted her revenge. He dropped his voice low, and said the words deeply and slowly, hanging to every syllable, staring deeply in her angry eyes, fully hoping she understood him. "I. Own. E<em>verything</em>."</p><p>This time, there was nowhere for her to run. What was she gonna do? Make him rip it off her body? He could only dream of it.</p><p>"Turn around, you fucking creep." She whispered, finally caving in.</p><p>The absolute gift of seeing her body would have to be a win for another night. If Eric didn't enjoy this little game of theirs so much he would have stood still and watched. But alas he was a gentleman, so he complied with her wishes.</p><p>The two of them stood in silence in his semi-dark apartment. He heard the gentle rumbling of fabric, and then felt the soft touch of satin in his right hand. The back of her warm tender hand grazed his wrist unexpectedly, which sent a ripple through his whole body. Part of him was screaming to turn around, the knowledge that Olivia Carson stood absolutely nude right behind him was much harder to resist than he thought. Her scent enveloped him fully, making his fangs hurt for a bite. <em>God</em> he wanted to skin her with his tongue.</p><p>"Leave." She ordered. "And don't turn around. <em>This</em>, you do not own."</p><p>The seconds stretched on endlessly. If this were anybody else on earth, there was nothing or nobody - not even his own conscience - that would have had the power to stop him from getting what he wanted. And he wanted to take in the sight of her bare body, especially because he was being told he couldn't have it. Eric wasn't used to being denied. He knew, however, that there were certain lines that if crossed, would ultimately end the game.</p><p>Oddly, he didn't want that. It was almost as if he liked the torture. She was right, he didn't own this, not yet. But he vowed to himself that one day, he would. He was in it for the long haul, he was going to win this game. So before he talked himself into caving in and turning around, he dashed through the front door and left without looking back. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done.</p>
<hr/><p>Olivia stood quietly naked in her living room for a while, unsure if Eric lurked in some dark corner, even though she saw him leave through the front door and close the door behind him, she couldn't be sure of anything anymore. Tonight felt like one long nightmare, and she was afraid that if she moved it would just continue to get worse, so she didn't for a long time.</p><p>Her whole apartment smelled like the wine that covered her kitchen floor. It could have been a lot fucking worse, she told herself. It was just a dress, she repeated over and over again. He didn't even see her naked or lift a finger to harm her. Then why did it feel like she almost fucking died?</p><p><em>I own everything, </em>he told her. The thought scared her in levels she didn't know existed.</p><p>She finally snapped out of the trance Eric had put her in and made her way to her bedroom. Olivia was covered in goosebumps, unsure if she was cold from the apartment's chilly AC, or if it was just… the fear of Eric lurking in the dark. God, he was inside her apartment. <em>He owned her fucking apartment - her whole building.</em> Had he been in here without her knowing before? Was he hiding in the shadows, watching, and she's never noticed? This felt like such a gross violation of her privacy. But then again, Olivia constantly invaded people's minds for personal gain all the time, so perhaps this was karma.</p><p>Liv decided she had to move, pronto. Tomorrow she was going to look for sale listings first thing in the morning. The only way he would own her next home would be by buying her fucking bank.</p><p>Could he do that?</p><p>She got in her closet to put on some PJs on and instantly froze again once she turned the lights on. It was empty. She blinked a couple of times, to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. No, her clothes were all gone. Her jackets, dresses, shirts, pants, blouses, skirts, shoes - all gone. Her Hermes purses still sat lonely on the top shelf, and her jewellery box remained untouched. But everything else was gone. She opened every dresser drawer: there was nothing in them, he hadn't taken just the dress off her body, he had taken <em>everything</em>. Everything except one item: in her lingerie drawer there was a single pair of black Dolce and Gabbana lacy underwear and see-through bra - courtesy of Eric's sponsored Dallas trip. With it, there was a small handwritten note.</p><p>"You son of a bitch!" She yelled, feeling the wrath beating in her chest.</p><p>The card read:</p><p>
  <em>I own you in this too.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.:</p><p>This chapter was so spicyyyy ohmygodness </p><p>I hope you guys are okay with me changing Alcide a little bit. He will be more or less the same, but he's a cop in this story because I wanted him to have a more central point. Plus, there had to be a cop chasing them why not make it the hottest Alpha wolf in Louisiana?</p><p>xoxo til next time my luvs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Kool Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her shoe collection was pristine but 2 sizes too small, which Pam deemed to be the crime of the century. Other than some jackets and dark silk blouses, none of Olivia's clothes were of her taste or size. She was short and petite while Pam was tall and much curvier. Pamela had spent the better part of an hour trying on the woman's clothes, looking at herself in the mirror, admiring her own shape in a different flavour. It was fun to pretend to be someone else for a minute, but Pam found no one to be quite as interesting as herself.</p><p>Not much here was worth looting, but the satisfaction of imaging Olivia naked and afraid, stuck at home with nothing to cover her own ass with was beyond anything she's had in years. Not being able to physically torture the poor soul was making Pam creative.</p><p>"Having fun?" Eric asked, finally returning to their home with one last dress in hand. It was pink and shiny.</p><p>"Ooooh I want to try <em>that," </em>Paid beamed wide-eyed, and Eric tossed her the bundle of fabric which she caught. Pam then immediately started to undress in the middle of the living room to try it in front of the brand new floor mirror that adorned the living room corner. "How was it?"</p><p>Eric had disappeared deep into the house, but he heard her just fine. "It was alright, but I doubt she'll stay at her place much longer."</p><p>A devious thought popped into her head. "We can go on a property shopping spree, you know? Get everything even remotely livable off the market, become Shreveport slumlords. She'll have no other option but to live under your roof. Plus we can launder through renovations and rent."</p><p>Silence for a minute. She put on the decadent silk pink champagne dress. "Not enough return of investment on that. The rental market in this town is dogshit, plus the capital we would need to execute it is way more than we've got right now."</p><p>Her Maker returned to the room. Eric avoided the maze of clothes on the floor and plopped himself onto the couch, watching Pam play dress up while sipping in a blood bag. To her great disappointment, he was correct. They weren't particularly liquid right now, especially after buying Olivia's whole building which ran a cool 1.2 million for 8 units.</p><p>They always had a problem stashing money away, their business model was designed to be this way by the Authority. Their power had an intentional cap on it, so Sheriff's or even Kings and Queens couldn't buy their way out and create their own city-state by seceding. She doubted any plan she could come up with would beat Carson's, even if it had her bound on a tight leather leash to sweeten the deal.</p><p>"I can order you fresh dinner," she suggested, eyeing him through the mirror while putting on Olivia's dress.</p><p>"No blood you can get me is the one I actually want. This is fine."</p><p>Pam turned around and faced him, hands on hips, mad at what he was insinuating. "You've gotta be jokin'."</p><p>"Smell her dress."</p><p>Pam brought the dress's wrist near her face. The quick sniff turned into a deep inhale, transporting her into a sunshine-filled fantasy for a moment. But there were other scents mixed with it. Chanel number 5, the sourness of white wine and the ever slight hint of damp earth, sea salt, and wood- old wood, like oak. She raised an eyebrow at the discovery. "Damn."</p><p>Her Maker nodded, not noticing Pam realized Eric had given Olivia his blood. She smelled it again, it was <em>there</em> clear as day. It didn't get on it by sweat because his sweat had its own special scent, and you best believe Pam knew Eric this intimately. No, this came straight from Olivia's skin. This subtle meddle of scents presented her with a problem much bigger than their financial status, disobedient accountant, the feds, business plans and ambitions.</p><p>Eric Northman did not simply offer up his 1000-year-old blood to just anyone. Even as a brand new vampire he knew he was on a whole different tier than others. He had always known he was special, and you don't stay special by giving yourself away to any old hag. So if you ever find yourself tasting the blood of Eric Northman, you can rest assured he either likes you, or wants something from you, or in some special cases, both.</p><p>She eyed her Maker through the mirror, he was zoned out on the couch sipping on the bagged blood, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. <em>Of course,</em> he wanted Carson. She was new, hot, shiny, feisty and most important of all, forbidden. Men were so fucking simple.</p><p>He must have noticed her staring because he spoke up. "Did you deal with Debbie Pelt like we agreed?"</p><p>"Sure did," Pam said, admiring Olivia's borderline still warm dress one more time. She didn't know what it was about it, but it looked off on her. Maybe it was the color, or the length, but she was sure it looked better on its original owner. "Glamoured the ever-living shit outta her, Debbie is officially our mole now."</p><p>"Good. Do you think it will work?"</p><p>"Of course. Herveaux has a fucking hero complex, he'll let her back in under his wing without question."</p><p>Alcide Hervaux was the Special Agent in Charge of the Vampire Blood investigation task force of the DEA in Northern Louisiana, who so conveniently was (up until recently) engaged to Debbie Pelt. They were high school sweethearts from Jackson Mississippi and were the kind of pathetic couple who doubled down on commitment every time their relationship should have ended. Cheating? Move in together. Money problems? Get engaged. They were one breakdown away from having a fucking kid. It was deplorable and utterly pathetic, truly.</p><p>But luckily for them, when Debbie and Alcide moved here for his big shot at the DEA office, Debbie started dabbling in V. Something, something, something, irony. "There's just one little tiny catch, though,"</p><p>"What's that?" Eric asked, tossing the empty blood bag on the side table and throwing his feet up on the couch, not particularly worried.</p><p>"Both Debbie and Alcide are werewolves, <em>but</em> Alcide refuses to join Shreveport's pack."</p><p>Eric straightened up and moved closer to the edge of his seat. "What? Why?"</p><p>"The pack in Shreveport deals a lot of drugs. Makes shit sticky at his job, plus Debbie babbled some long-ass story about him being a lone wolf but it was too fuckin' boring for me to pay attention to. Anyways, lil' Debbie needs a pack to feel… Whole or whatever. That's why they broke up <em>this</em> time,"</p><p>"And the fact she's a V addict probably didn't help," he added.</p><p>"Ain't humanity sad?" Pam strutted up to her room to put on her own clothes before going out. She had a mani-pedi and hair appointment at 2. When she came back down to the living room on her way out, she caught her Maker holding the shiny pale pink dress in his hands, deep in contemplation.</p><p>"You are so fuckin' predictable, Eric."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You want the little cunt."</p><p>"So?"</p><p>"Look, I know we got that little rule that we don't fuck staff, but I'll let you off the hook this time,"</p><p>"Well Pamela, <em>thank you</em> for your kind benevolence," he said in a patronizing tone. He stood up, looking at her highly unimpressed. He was still holding onto the dress, though.</p><p>"You're welcome," she teased. "In return, the new strippers are all mine."</p><p>Eric gave her a real dirty look, he did not appreciate it when she tried to set the rules. He was her Maker, and their relationship did not work like that. But what was he gonna do? Not go for the accountant because he wanted to prove a point? Fuck no. That's why this was so fun.</p><p>"Just don't let Ginger see it, ok? Bitch would have an aneurism. Anyway, I'm going out now, toodles!"</p><hr/><p>Olivia Carson's Grand Plan was to make a shitload of money, retire by 40 and travel the world with her mom who had a very lengthy dream trip list. And when her mom got tired of travelling (or of her), Olivia would buy a beach house somewhere quiet, like in Fiji or Bali. Maybe Jamaica so it's closer to New Jersey.</p><p>Queen Sophie Anne guaranteed that if she became her accountant, Olivia could achieve her Grand Plan by age 35. The salary was greater than what the Mexican cartel paid her, and safer too. People don't usually <em>retire</em> from working for the cartel. Not alive anyway.</p><p>It was the main reason Olivia had never own property before. She liked her assets to be well invested and well stashed. But this morning she found herself at a realtor's office, browsing listings on a big binder and she couldn't help but feel conflicted about the decision.</p><p>Pro: she would be safe from vampires (Eric), have some privacy and a sense of belonging; real estate here was really cheap here and property taxes were low. Con: the sense of belonging would be attached to Shreveport, which was a real dumpster; schools were shit, hospitals were sketchy, roads had more bumps than the surface of the moon, street lighting was an abstract art concept, the police was funded with donuts and the library's funding was whatever the mayor found in pocket change at the end of fiscal. Social programs were "commie shit" and the local jail was the town's hottest after-hours club. Welcome to the fucking south.</p><p>The real snag was that buying a place would only fix half the issue. The other half, the Eric Northman portion, was significantly more complicated. It didn't help that she was wearing a strange combination of clothes because all she had access to was whatever she had dropped at the dry cleaners three days before. Her dry cleaner didn't do delivery service, so she had to tip them 200 dollars after negotiating with the Chinese lady for half an hour on the phone. But what choice did she have? How the fuck was she supposed to go out and buy clothes if she was butt naked with only underwear, jewelry and purses? All part of her punishment, she figured.</p><p>She didn't merely have a non-compliant client problem, no. Oliva had an Eric Northman problem and it was proving to be on a whole other level.</p><p>The realtor eyed her quietly from behind his desk while she browsed a binder of listings. He was a man in his 40s, clean-shaven with gelled hair, and had three World's #1 Dad mugs filled with pens on his desk. He was trying his best to act normal, but he looked at her with eyes blazing as if he never saw someone like her before. When they first met she instantly put her mind wall up, she definitely wasn't in the mood for anyone's opinions of her today. She knew her slutty black dress, covered by an oxford shirt and house slippers outfit was weird, but it was what she got. All the man had to do was to sit quietly for a day, do as he was told and he would get his 6% commission, cash.</p><p>"This one, and this one," she pulled out the pages from the binder. The realtor picked up the phone to set up viewings throughout the week. "Oh no, I want to put in an offer today."</p><p>The man raised an eyebrow. "Oh… Sure, uhm. What bank did you say your mortgage is pre-approved with?"</p><p>"I didn't. I'm paying cash."</p><p>"I'll still need a letter of legality, madam. You know-"</p><p>Olivia sighed. "Yes to make sure the money is of perfect legal standing. That's fine, my lawyer will fax you one."</p><p>Portia Bellefleur was earning her paycheck this week.</p><p>"We're in a hurry, are we? Is your landlord a prick or something?"</p><p>"Oh, you have <em>no</em> idea."</p><p>Olivia looked at 4 different houses that day. Stars were definitely aligned tonight or something because the only house she actually liked was the only one that sat empty and was move-in ready. It was a cute brick house just off of downtown, with charming citrus trees in the small front yard, plus the whole place was fenced with tall brick walls in for maximum privacy. The neighbourhood was near downtown, so it was denser, with lots packed tight. But the neighbour behind her had a lot of large trees in his backyard, so her end looked quiet and peaceful and not so boxed in. The garden was nice too, with vines growing on the brick walls and pretty stone paths between the bushes. No grass to speak of for her to take care of.</p><p>The house was all one level. The living room was good-sized (with a fireplace she would likely never use), the galley kitchen was small and it had an ugly brown tile on the floor. Three bedrooms with an unfortunate grey carpet (the owner swore there was hardwood underneath), and 2 bathrooms. The yard was nice too, it had a large patio and a garage - handy for stashing the bodies! (kidding) (not really).</p><p>While the paperwork would go through, Olivia would stay at a hotel. No way in fucking hell she would sleep in her current apartment. Northman planted a seed of evil in her head, and it had been <em>extremely</em> effective. Even though he could have entered her home this <em>entire time</em> (and no guarantees that he hadn't), she now <em>knew</em>. The whole place was now tainted with his shadow. She had taken the ability to rescind invitations for granted - never again.</p><p>Last night she couldn't even get herself to sleep. She tossed and turned but ultimately was too scared of falling asleep. Every time she closed her eyes she would imagine Eric sneaking in and watching her sleep - or worse. What if he watched her while she had a sex dream? What if he heard her moan his name in her sleep? The thought flushed her with embarrassment and anger and she prayed it hadn't already happened.</p><p>Olivia was in a bad mood. Exhausted and in weird clothes, effectively homeless and severely pissed off. He made her vulnerable to such a raw point, he made sure she understood her position. <em>I own you. Submit or else</em>. But Olivia didn't submit to anybody. Tired of whining about Eric to herself, Liv had to snap herself out of it. <em>Fix it</em> her dad would sternly tell her. <em>Fix it because no one else will do it for you.</em></p><p>She understood her powers would put her in impossible situations, and there would be no one, not a soul, who could help her or even offer advice. It was up to her to turn the tables, and she knew exactly how to do it.</p><p>Offer on her house given, Olivia called Portia to settle her affairs and one more extremely important thing. "I need you to transfer a land title onto my name, starting tonight at midnight. I just emailed you the paperwork."</p><p>"Well Olivia, the city office closes in a couple of hours. Best I can do on that transfer title is Friday, and I'll have to delay the close on the strip mall on Ravine road to next week-"</p><p><em>Oh no, </em>delaying this was <em>NOT </em>an option. Olivia didn't like her tone or her message, nor was she in the mood to swallow Portia Bellefleur's contempt for deadlines. "My apologies, I was under the impression your office would have the resources my clients and I need. Was I mistaken?"</p><p>A long silence on the line. She was not expecting a pushback. "I can process all your requests Miss Carson, but you keep adding things to my plate-"</p><p>"Then get a bigger team, Miss Bellefleur, because when I assign you more tasks the deadlines don't change. I need the fiscal letter <em>and </em>the land transfer title done <em>today</em>."</p><p>"No offence but I have other clients and matters to attend to, I can only do so much in the run of a day-"</p><p>"Do you really wanna know how I got that BMW Portia?" Olivia sourly interrupted. "Let me tell you, it was not by fucking my boss, no, I'd be driving a vintage Jaguar if I did," she heard Portia hold her breath against the phone. "I got to where I am by adjusting my services to my client's needs. So <em>if</em> you want to keep that very fat retainer contract we discussed at dinner, which I know it's 35% higher than your regular market rate, I suggest you not only get with the tune but change your whole damn pitch."</p><p>"But the city hall-"</p><p>"Closes in two hours, so you better hurry. I'll be expecting a text message when it's done." Olivia hung up and took three deep breaths alone in her car.</p><p>So much had to go right for her today, it would be an actual miracle if she lived long enough to even move into that damn house. Now, all she had to do was to check herself into a hotel, buy herself some basic clothes and wait until midnight.</p><p>And for that text.</p><hr/><p>Olivia got some underwear, jeans, t-shirts, pyjamas and a pair of sneakers at Target. She had bought a house in full already, plus spent a shitload on a title transfer and was not in the mood to spend another cent of her own money for at least a week.</p><p>She still wore the black Dior dress she got in Dallas, the single-shoulder skin-tight one that showed all her curves. It was particularly tight on her ass. Olivia wasn't about to face off Eric Northman wearing fucking Target.</p><p>It was 11:45 PM when she pulled in front of the Northman residence. It was actually not that far from her new house, just deeper into the suburbs. It was on a quiet street, and the ancient overgrown trees in his lot made the house barely visible from the street. But she recognized his car in the driveway, so she knew she was at the right place.</p><p>The garden in the front yard had a mystical forest air to it, it was like stepping into its own bubble with the tall magnolia trees making a ceiling. It was absolutely beautiful, the variety of bushes and flowers were probably stunning during the day. But the porch light was off, and she could barely see a thing.</p><p>The house was rather large, a white Queen Anne style with the wrap around porch, two full stories plus an attic. It was in pristine condition and was much grander than anything else she had seen in Shreveport.</p><p>She grabbed the front door's brass lion head knocker and banged on the tall door loudly. Her heartbeat strong against her ribs, she grabbed the handle of her briefcase tighter. Eric Northman answered the door, bathing her in the bright light from the foyer. He was wearing his regular dark wash jeans and tight black t-shirt, V cut. The brass chain of a long necklace was peeking through the collar before disappearing under his shirt. His hair looked particularly soft, it made her hand want to run her fingers through it.</p><p>"Funny, I was about to make a visit," he smirked, looking glad to see Olivia at his doorstep instead.</p><p>She said nothing, just stood there trying to look tall and probably failing at it. She was just 5'5", Eric basically had a whole foot on her. He stepped aside and motioned for her to come in. She did, her eyes studying the grandiosity of his home. She had never seen anything like it.</p><p>The place had warm white walls and dark and polished dark wood floors. The ceilings must have been at least 9 feet tall, the millwork was simply astonishing. Beautiful crown mouldings, arches, marble fireplace, luxurious dark furniture, a mix of modern and Victorian. Crystal chandeliers hung from beautiful medallions on the ceiling. A perfect balance between feminine and masculine. It was like peeking into another dimension altogether, she had never been to a house that looked this elegant. Goddammit, this just made what she was about to do about 10 times more satisfying, and 100 times scarier.</p><p>"I was wondering where that dress was," he said after he closed the door.</p><p>"Drycleaners. It's Dior, you don't toss it in the wash."</p><p>"Of course," he smiled.</p><p>"Where's Pamela?"</p><p>"Louisiana State Cheerleading tryouts," Olivia made a face and was about to ask <em>why</em> but it was better she didn't know. "So, are you here for business or pleasure? The dress tells me night in Vegas which I like... But the briefcase tells me you're billing me for this house call."</p><p>"And the fact that you can't tell is precisely the problem," he eyed her head to toe and started to slowly paced around her, hands in pocket. It was like being in a swimming pool with a shark. They were still standing in the foyer and she planted her feet, unwilling to move. It was best she stayed near the front door. Rule 5 and all. "<em>We</em> have a serious boundary problem, Mr. Northman."</p><p>"Mr. Northman? Oh, come on Olivia, we are a bit past that, aren't we?"</p><p>"Yes and that was a mistake. Clearly your sense of… Intimacy between us is misplaced. I think we need to establish some boundaries for our working relationship going forward."</p><p>Professional, concise, to the point. That's how things would be from now on.</p><p>He stopped right in front of her, but not borderline on top of her like he used to. He still looked amused, looking at her intensely with his brilliant icy eyes. Liv took in the sight of him. Eric was truly a gorgeous man. She glanced at the phone, 11:52 PM. He wasn't going to be amused for much longer.</p><p>"Sense of intimacy, what a funny choice of words. Aren't <em>you</em> the one having sex dreams about me?" He joked. The fear of having him witness her dreams flashed in her mind, but she had to push the thought away. She had to keep the high ground today.</p><p>"Another little boundary problem caused by <em>you</em>."</p><p>"That was for your own protection."</p><p>"Was buying my entire building without telling me for my protection too? With funds from an account you failed to disclose, might I add,"</p><p>"Would you believe me if I said it was also for your protection?"</p><p>"If you hadn't broken in, stolen all my clothes and threatened me, then maybe."</p><p>"Ah, the clothes bit was just Pamela having fun. And believe me, I wasn't threatening you. That was me… Establishing boundaries."</p><p>His words from last night still haunted the corners of her mind, replaying in her head like some kind of scratched record ever since. <em>You need to understand that I own you and everything about you. </em>If these were the boundaries he wanted, it wasn't where she was willing to draw the line. Not tonight, not anymore, not ever again. Olivia looked at the time once more.</p><p><em>Showtime. </em>"I hope you enjoyed your little dress snatching game because that's over."</p><p>"Is it now? So you're here to what? Hand deliver me your resignation letter? Or better yet, hand deliver me this little Dior number?"</p><p>"Would you accept it if I did?" He cocked an eyebrow and smirked, barely containing his excitement. "My resignation letter, I mean."</p><p>"No, I wouldn't. You think you can quit <em>me?</em>" He took a step closer, his dominant attitude filling up the room. He wore fitting clothes that showed off his lean and muscular body, but the sexiest thing about him was the way he looked at her.</p><p>"Oh, I don't want to quit <em>you</em>," she spoke softly, looking up at him. At his lips, precisely. <em>Any time now.</em></p><p>"Good," his voice lowered, his focus was solely on her. His fingers touched her arm, trailing higher and higher towards her face. She got full-body chills.</p><p>But then he stopped. The front door of the house swung wide open, unprompted. Eric froze in place as his body floated towards the porch, and he only stopped once he passed through the doorway. He looked around the porch confused, he tried to enter the house but couldn't.</p><p>"What's this?!"</p><p><em>Oh, thank fucking GOD it worked.</em> She released a full breath, she was holding onto it all day. If she lived to see another day, she was going to kiss Portia Bellefleur on the fucking mouth and take her V-card herself. She left Eric puzzled for another second, savouring the moment he realized he did not, in fact, owned everything.</p><p>"<em>This</em> is called transfer of land title, a little side project I got done today. As of 1 minute and 15 seconds ago, I own this house."</p><p>"You bought my fucking house?"</p><p>"Hm, not really. I paid the 3% transfer fee based on the house's value. So it's more like I inherited it, technically."</p><p>"You <em>little bitch</em>-" he muttered, anger building like a pressure cooker.</p><p>Oh yes, she paid city hall the fee of 57 thousand dollars for the land title transfer, and judging by how he held the door frame so tightly his knuckles went white, it was worth every single penny.</p><p>"Are you ready to establish some boundaries now, Mr. Northman?" She grinned, walking towards the front door with poise.</p><p>"How <em>the fuck </em>did you get my <em>house</em> without me signing on it<em>?"</em></p><p>"There's a clause in my contract that gives me power of attorney in the case of your demise. Even though you are <em>technically </em>dead all the time, your demise only counts during the day while you are dead asleep. It's the only time you are <em>dead</em> dead. Fun little legal loophole I found. It's under the emergency provisions."</p><p>Somebody was regretting not reading the contract he signed just about now.</p><p>"I'm going to FUCKING kill you!" His rage echoed throughout the large house, his fangs were out.</p><p>"Are you now? Because if I die the house goes to my beneficiary, not back to you. And good luck finding them, because I haven't seen the bastard in years."</p><p>There was <em>one</em> good thing about procrastinating the change of her next to kin paperwork after all.</p><p>"I'm not going to play this fucking game with you!" He roared, his eyes darkened with anger.</p><p>This right here, she told herself, was the <em>real</em> Eric Northman. She kind of enjoyed holding power over him.</p><p>"Oh, what's that?" She teased, laughing. "Are you finally going to stop jerking me around? Because that's the game we've been playing since I got here and I'm quite sick of it!"</p><p>"What do you want?"</p><p><em>Aah, he could say that again. </em>It was music to her ears. "Boundaries," she repeated in a serious tone. "You are to respect my property, privacy and personal life. And you're going to let me do my job as I see fit, with no interruptions or side quests. I'm not your day staff or your assistant, I am your accountant!"</p><p>Eric relaxed slightly, straightening his back and getting as close as he could to the door, without trespassing. He looked at her with cold dark eyes still. "Or?"</p><p><em>Or?</em> <em>Or?! </em>A pit formed down her throat. There was no backup plan, this was kind of it.</p><p>"Or we continue fucking each other over until we both assure mutual destruction."</p><p>The two stood in front of each other, a whole veil in between the two. She could see him deep in thought, probably imagining thousand of different ways of slicing her up.</p><p>"Fine." He finally declared. "But I also have my own terms."</p><p>"Name them." All she wanted was for them to come to an understanding so she could sleep again unafraid of getting railroaded. She had enough to worry about laundering money as it is.</p><p>"I deeply value my assets, Olivia. I can't trust them so easily with other people, even if the Queen puts a stake to my heart and tells me to. It's not about the money, it's about power."</p><p>"I know, I understand-"</p><p>"So I will only trust you with all my assets if you become one of them."</p><p>"Pardon me?"</p><p>"You," a smug smile grew on his face again, sending Olivia's heart into hyperdrive. "Will be mine."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.: Hello bonjoooour</p><p>Just when y'all thought the tables had turned eh? </p><p>Thank you all for the lovely comments, I LOVE that you love this story as much as I do! You guys are incredible :') </p><p>Til next time xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Feels Blind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olivia left the dazzling party behind and rushed outside to the cool silence of the pool deck. The fresh night breeze ruffled the tall palm trees that lined the beachside garden gently. There wasn't a single cloud up in the sky, but the resort's lights obfuscated the stars all the same. She looked out to the ocean's black horizon and wished deeply to get lost in it and leave everything behind. Her emotions were spinning out of control and her ribs were strangling her lungs trying not to scream. Olivia's heart was aching so bad she would sell her soul to the devil right then and there in order not to feel anything like this ever again. She felt her life as she knew was over.</p><p>The love of her life had hurt her, mutilated her soul, wounded her so deeply it made her hate herself. She should hate <em>him</em>, but she found herself not being able to. She loved Jamie so much, so deeply, she couldn't even fathom a version of herself who didn't. Olivia wandered the night alone as she drowned herself in self-pity, hatred and guilt, hoping the earth would swallow her. She shouldn't have done it - read his mind. Liv promised herself she would never <em>ever</em> do it. Her curse allowed her to see people's true faces, she was never fooled by anyone, ever. But God, <em>why?</em> Why couldn't she just be a fool <em>once?</em></p><p>There was no need to ever doubt Jamie, that's what she loved the most about him. He was the most truthful and honest man she had ever met. Liv never had to wonder what he thought, he was the type of confident man who always spoke his opinion in a room full of people without a shade of doubt or hesitation. And the wildest part was that people listened to Jamie. He had that kind of cocky but respectable arrogance that made people instantly listen to and trust him. <em>She </em>trusted him and Liv never really trusted anybody.</p><p>But tonight she learned what her fiance really thought of her. And it broke her - shattered her heart. She met Jamie Kennedy the summer before her senior year at Princeton at an internship at an accounting firm in Manhattan (he went to Columbia). It was foolish to admit it, but it was love at first sight. Meeting him was like reconnecting with someone you knew for a very long time already, their bond was unexplainable. After graduation, they both got jobs at the same firm they interned at and moved in together in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn (an oxymoron, all apartments in Brooklyn are tiny). He proposed the day they moved by writing "Marry Me?" on a moving box label, and she said yes without a shadow of a doubt in her heart.</p><p>They never let their romance get in the way of work though. Both were very ambitious people in their own ways. Olivia was known to bring in and manage... <em>Prestigious</em> <em>international</em> clients while Jamie had the attention to detail and precision of a Rolex technician. Jamie and Olivia worked in different accounts entirely, and their work never overlapped. A good thing too, she was terrified of Jamie - or anyone at the office - ever finding out who her clients really were and where the money really came from. It's how she got so good at her job. She knew the sordid details of her client's businesses, her clients made a <em>point</em> of making her know it. Their partnership relied on the understanding that no one else would know and she was paid extra on the side for it.</p><p>They were now at a company retreat in a private resort in Costa Rica. Lee Shultz, the VP, was giving a long speech to introduce the company's new Accounting Managers and Controllers. It was a company tradition to announce the promotions in front of everybody during the retreat before everyone got blackout drunk. It was after dinner and everyone was at the edge of their seats. Out of the new intake of accountants, she was the only woman and by far the youngest. It was a bit intimidating and disheartening at times, but Olivia was confident she had a real shot at it. She was good at her job, never made mistakes, always had excellent results. She thought Jaimie had a good shot too. Names were finally announced, and on the very last spot, Shultz said her name. <em>Her name</em>! Olivia Carson, new Accounting Manager. She was <em>ecstatic.</em> HOLY SHIT her first promotion! She did it!</p><p>Everyone applauded and cheered, Karen from the P&amp;G account team gave her a tight and excited hug. She looked at Jamie sitting beside her but all he gave her was a small demure smile. He hesitated for a second before starting clapping and cheering along with everyone else. A second - that one tiny second - was all it took. Before she even knew what she was doing, her mind narrowed into his eyes. He wondered if she had slept with her boss to get the promotion.</p><p>What was supposed to be a big and happy milestone for Olivia, ended up shattering her heart into a million pieces. Her favorite person in the whole world, the man she loved with all her heart thought that… Even after all her dedication and hard work, he thought she still wasn't good enough or deserved to get promoted. That the only way she could advance her career was by spreading her legs to her boss - who was fucking married! The only way she could have ever earned the position was by cheating the game and cheating on him.</p><p>Now her brain was trying to come up with reasons not to break up with him. To somehow forget it all happened and just move on. He was just jealous, an insecure little man. But was that the kind of person she wanted to be with? Olivia was trying to bite back the tears as she headed to the beach past the poolside chairs. There were no other guests here, it was completely silent. It's all she needed right now - silence, no thoughts.</p><p>"Didn't your mother ever teach you to never cry over a man?" A soft voice asked from behind her.</p><p>Olivia's heart almost jumped out of her body; she was so startled. People didn't usually sneak up on her, she could hear their anticipation coming from a mile away. But somehow the owner of this voice did. Olivia turned around and saw a woman laying on one of the poolside loungers she just walked past. How did she not notice <em>this</em> woman Liv had no idea. She was just absolutely beautiful. Flawless glimmering white skin, perfectly vintage-curled copper hair, bright red lipstick that made her blue eyes put the ocean to shame. The woman was wearing a cream sleeveless jumpsuit, with a high waist and loose-fitting bottoms that had a special 70s flair to it. She was stunning, sipping on a dark and thick red wine.</p><p>The woman had a certain smirk on her face like she knew all of Olivia's secrets.</p><p>"I'm not crying," Olivia said in a particularly aggressive tone, 100% overcompensating for the fact that she was, in fact, about to bawl her eyes out from a broken heart.</p><p>"Good. Take a walk with me, Olivia," the woman stood up and walked towards the dark beach.</p><p>"How do you know my name?" She asked as the woman passed her. This was <em>Olivia's</em> trick. She narrowed down deep into the stranger's thoughts, but she reached… Silence. Nothing. There wasn't a pushback either, or the cloudiness she sometimes encountered in people. There was only oblivion, a void. Like if she wasn't there at all - a ghost.</p><p>"Let's say we have… Mutual Mexican friends."</p><p>The Mexicans she knew surely <em>did not have friends. </em>Olivia felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise. She wasn't Alejandro, the man she did her usual business with. Nor did her client send any messages to meet in person which they so rarely did. Olivia found herself automatically following this woman into the beach, away from the loud music and drunken laughter coming from the resort. It would be bad to get spotted by any of her co-workers right now. She had to know if she was in trouble, but how could she when this woman's mind gave her <em>nothing?</em></p><p>"What happened to Alejandro?"</p><p>"Oh, Alejandro is no more. None of them are."</p><p>Olivia had so many questions she didn't even know where to start. Was Alejandro dead? Was his boss, The Big Boss, dead too? Or in prison? No, she would have heard about it - they would have frozen the accounts, she would have gotten indicted. Would she be caught at the airport? She shuddered at the thought of getting arrested in front of Jamie, her bosses and coworkers. But also, if her Mexican clients were really dead it would be very bad to lose their business <em>now</em>. Her reputation kinda depended on it. "What happened to them?"</p><p>"They were breaching into my territory, so I ended them," she said it so calmly, so naturally as if she just told her she got her jumpsuit on sale.</p><p>Olivia stopped following. The two women were in the middle of the dark deserted beach now, the ocean was much louder here than by the pool. "Who are you?"</p><p>She turned out so quickly her eyes missed it completely. "I am Queen Sophie-Anne LeClerq, of Louisiana."</p><p><em>What the fuck - </em>"Is this a joke?"</p><p>The stranger stared her down and softly opened her mouth to reveal abnormally long and sharp canine teeth, which sent Olivia three steps back at the realization of what this woman was. She was a <em>vampire</em>.</p><p>They had been all over the news for a couple of months now after making their debut to humanity, but she had never met or seen one in real life until right then. Was this the reason she couldn't read her thoughts? Were Olivia's powers only limited to the living and breathing?</p><p>Already fearing the worst at the realization she was alone at a dark beach with a vampire, Olivia dared to ask. "What do you want from me?"</p><p>The vampire woman smirked, retracting her fangs and just keeping her perfectly straight white teeth. There was just something so magnetizing about her - Olivia didn't know if she wanted to <em>be</em> her or <em>fuck </em>her. Actually, she did know.</p><p>"You were their accountant."</p><p>It wasn't a question, but Liv answered anyway. "Yes."</p><p>"And your employer was <em>aware</em> of who they were?" The vampire nodded at the party happening 100 feet away. They could hear music faintly playing and the occasional drunk laughter.</p><p>"God no! We would be immediately indicted and I'd lose my license and go to jail. I made it all look legal on paper. They are a company of exported Mexican canned goods for all anyone cares."</p><p>The Queen smirked again, studying Olivia head to toe for a moment. "Good."</p><p><em>Good?</em> "You still haven't told me what you want."</p><p>"Very simple, Oliva," she stepped closer. This time, she didn't step away. "I want you."</p><hr/><p>Liv fell and she fell hard. Into the dark fantasy that was the vampire world, into the luxurious lifestyle they led, and the absolute fuck ton of money she was making. Was money a fetish? Because looking at her own accounts made Olivia absolutely horny. The Grand Plan was happening much faster than she had expected and no promotion of any kind would ever feel as good as this.</p><p>She flew back to New York, broke up her engagement with Jamie, ended her lease in Brooklyn and quit her job at the firm to move to New Orleans. The Queen insisted she could not be taken as a client at her current firm because being a vampire was not something easy to hide, like being a drug cartel. She needed the utmost privacy, and Olivia agreed without a second thought. She asked the universe for an out, and the karmic cosmos had delivered.</p><p>Her family seriously thought she had fallen victim to a human trafficking ring because she moved so fast. But after bringing them all over for a Mardigras vacation a couple of months later (all expenses paid) they believed the "consulting" gig she landed in New Orleans was legit.</p><p>Olivia felt bad lying to her family, but honestly, this wasn't much different than before. She laundered money for criminals in New York then, and she was laundering money for criminals now. Technically she just had cut the middle man of an employer, but her family didn't need to know the details. Especially when the details involved vampires and her mother and aunt always clutched their pearls when the undead came up in the news.</p><p>The job also came with some serious benefits. The Queen had arranged a penthouse apartment in the French Quarters, a Mercedes-Benz for her to drive and her new salary paid double of what she would be making at the NY firm, even after the promotion. Her mother was ill and her treatments were expensive. Olivia promised her family living 5 states over and taking up this job was the only way she could afford to pay for what her mother needed. Once her mother and aunt arrived, saw her alive and thriving and discovered the open container laws of downtown New Orleans they forgot real quick about the shadiness of it all and just enjoyed the vacation. Liv had never seen her mother or aunt Suzie <em>this</em> drunk, and although the two were absolutely hilarious, she hoped they never visited again - NOLA couldn't take it.</p><p>Working for the Queen also had other perks - lavish parties, shopping trips, random gifts and bonuses. Plus Sophie-Anne was absolutely remarkable in every way. The history she lived through, the people she had met, her whole life was inspiring. Sophie-Anne was poor and disposable as a human, but once she became a vampire she rose up high in society and learned to excel in the old world and in the new one as a woman. She was quick-witted, highly intelligent and incredibly funny. The two spent hours talking after their work meetings, and often they would end up crying from laughter.</p><p>This was the closest bond she had with someone since her father passed. She never took for granted the inability of reading her dad's mind, not even for a second. After his death, Liv tried her hardest to have normal relationships with people by practicing constant vigilance and self-constraint - something she found out to be both exhausting and impossible. It only took <em>one</em> thought, <em>one</em> unspoken truth to bring it all down. Relationships with humans were just too fragile. But she didn't have to worry about any of it with Sophie-Anne or any other vampires.</p><p>Vampires weren't <em>ordinary</em> people by any means, but their quiet minds were incredibly comforting. Maybe it spoke volumes that she could only feel like a normal person around dead people. And taking home in that comfort was by far her <em>biggest</em> mistake.</p><p>It was almost dawn. Olivia was sobering up within the halls of the Queen's palace after a long night of partying. Sophie-Anne always threw parties, post-<em>Curia</em> <em>Regis,</em> knowing how much richer her Kingdom had become after each quarter, always put her in a good mood. The Queen never allowed Olivia to attend the actual <em>Curia Regis</em> which frustrated her to no end. It was strictly vampire business between the Monarch and their Sheriffs. Sophie-Anne always told her the courts were boring, and it was unheard of to have humans who weren't meals to attend. There were ancient societal rules in the vampire world - who was her, a mere mortal, to argue? But still, Liv couldn't help but feel if she were present at these meetings, she could talk individually to each Sherriff about their finances and perhaps find all sorts of liabilities, vulnerabilities or areas of improvement. She was hired to be an accountant and financial advisor, so let her <em>advise</em> dammit<em>.</em></p><p>All Olivia got to look at were the books they brought in, but they could have been forged and 100% imaginary if their accountants were good enough. One of them, Area 5 for example, had about 60k missing over the last 3 quarters. They had done it sneakily, but the math didn't add up. That was the thing with math - it takes real talent to make it lie. Who knows what else she had missed? She needed to be in that room.</p><p>With a big glass of water in one hand and a whole bottle of it in the other, Liv found the Queen in her greenhouse. It was warm and humid and exceedingly bright, which irritated Olivia's incoming hangover.</p><p>"Your Majesty?"</p><p>The Queen was closely inspecting the leaves of a tall Birds of Paradise, completely unaware of the world around her. She still wore her white shimmering dress, with beautiful champagne embroidery down to the hem. Sophie-Anne looked like an angel. "I <em>finally</em> got rid of the last of the thrips that were absolutely devouring my greenhouse."</p><p>Olivia knew nothing about plants other than what the Queen told her. Thrips were a nasty insect pest that ate the leaves of pretty much everything, leaving ugly brown holes behind. "That's good!"</p><p>"Did you have a good time at the party?" Sophie-Anne smiled.</p><p>"I always do. Shouldn't you be in the ground? It's almost dawn."</p><p>The Queen moved over to another bush, inspecting the leaves closely with her bright red nails."I know, Liv. I can feel it coming, I just don't want to go just yet. Did you need something?"</p><p>Olivia fell quiet for a moment. She just stood there enjoying the view of Sophie-Anne's hands ever so delicately moving each leaf, her nimble fingers searching for intruders. Olivia had met many vampires since their encounter in Costa Rica, but no one she ever met was quite like her. Sophie-Anne wasn't the first woman Olivia ever felt attracted to, she knew she wasn't particularly straight since her late teenage years. But Sophie-Anne was a whole other tier of attraction. Olivia wished Sophie-Anne's good looks were enough to suppress what she really needed to say.</p><p>"Why don't you want me to attend <em>Curia Regis</em>, really?"</p><p>She laughed sarcastically. "Are you offering yourself as the next meal? That would be something-"</p><p>"Soph don't bullshit me."</p><p>"Fine," her smile vanished. "It's because if any of my Sheriffs liked what they saw they could claim you."</p><p>"Claim me? Don't they know I work <em>for </em>you?"</p><p>"Claiming and working for are two very different things in our world. If I claim you as mine no other vampire can drink from you, glamour you or harm you - though the latter one can vary by who you're talking to-"</p><p>"How is that any different from the edict of protection you wrote for me?"</p><p>"It's different." She said simply and walked away, moving her attention to another plant. The horizon was starting to change colours, from dark blue to faint yellow. They really shouldn't be having this conversation <em>now</em>, but sometimes you have to take the chances when they present themselves. The Queen's avoidance told her all she needed to know.</p><p>"You are hiding me. If you don't want them to claim me, then claim me yourself." Olivia didn't know where she had found this strange new boldness, but it was how she felt as of late.</p><p>Suddenly, Sophie-Anne was close, body and face inches away from her own. She was frowning with certain darkness in her eyes. "You don't know what you are asking."</p><p>"You and I had a deal, you'd <em>never </em>withhold things from me!"</p><p>"Only about your job-"</p><p>"This <em>is</em> my job," Olivia felt her voice rising. "What exactly aren't you telling me?"</p><p>Her ocean-blue eyes had a spark of fury. "In order to claim you, I have to drink your blood, and you have to drink mine. This isn't just a formality, we will be deeply bonded by the higher powers of our essences<em>.</em> I'll know what you feel, I will know where you are, I will haunt your dreams for a very, <em>very </em>long time. I will be a part of you, and you will be a part of me, and it can take <em>years</em> for it to fade - <em>if</em> it fades at all."</p><p>"Then I'm afraid to inform you not much will be different, Soph." The Queen softly gasped. "You already always know where I am. You already haunt my dreams and you have to be an idiot not to know how I feel about you."</p><p>Sophie-Anne froze in place for a second before her features softened into a smile. "You… Are a fool. My fool."</p><p>And their lips collided. Entire galaxies crashed into one another with them. Sophie-Anne and Olivia held each other tightly as if they would never hold each other again if they ever let go. Liv could feel Sophie-Anne's fangs sharply come down, and soon she felt the Queen's cool blood enter her mouth. As it washed down, Olivia felt an instant high - a lightness she never felt before. She could feel Sophie-Anne's touch everywhere, all at once. Liv was so lost in the pure bliss of the vampire blood she didn't even feel Sophie-Anne bury her face on her neck. Even the pinch of her skin breaking under the Queen's teeth felt sweet. Her body let go into the vampire's embrace.</p><p>Olivia opened her eyes, she faced the wide-open sky through the greenhouse's glass ceiling. She could see Mars and Venus shining brightly beside the fading Moon, the sky turning bright orange and the darkness retreating fast. Even though it felt time stood still, she could no longer risk losing it all for lust. Their time was over.</p><p>"Sophie-Anne," Olivia whispered. "It's day-"</p><p>But the Queen bit down deeper, letting out a deeply inhuman groan. A loud click by the door echoed through the place and the lights which were on an automatic switch turned off, but the room didn't get much darker. It was officially day time. Their love spell was quickly swirling into reality.</p><p>The dimness of the sunrise was coming and there was no stopping it. "The sun - Soph you -"</p><p>She felt Sophie-Anne's nails dig sharply into her ribs, a lion's mouth deep into her prey. The vampire was furiously sucking every drop of blood she could out of the small wound. Olivia could feel her legs start to go numb and the edges of her vision blur. Her fight or flight response kicked in and she pushed the vampire away, but Sophie-Anne held her tighter making it hard to even breathe.</p><p>"Sophie-Anne, stop!" Olivia ordered, but the vampire did not listen.</p><p>She had seen the vampire feed hundreds of times, but Liv never witnessed her latch on this wildly or this desperately. There was something deeply wrong. Much to her disadvantage, Olivia's heartbeat spiked, spilling more and more blood from her neck for the vampire to drain. The blurriness of her vision was quickly turning to darkness.</p><p>She could no longer hold herself up; she was fading so quickly into unconsciousness, the two of them dropped to their knees. "Stop!" Olivia cried, grabbing a bundle of bright copper hair with her fist and yanking Sophie-Anne's head off her with the last bit of adrenaline her body pumped out. The Queen was a red vision - she had Olivia's blood all over the cheeks and chin, dripping down her neck and dress. Olivia felt her own hot blood spill down her collarbones and left breast, she quickly pressed on the bite with her hand, trying to stop the bleeding. Sophie-Anne looked lost in a blood high but frowned at the same time. Her big eyes and even bigger pupils stared back at her in hesitation.</p><p>Liv wanted to yell at Sophie-Anne for not stopping when she begged, but something even more terrifying happened. Bright golden yellow rays of sunshine flooded the greenhouse, bathing the plants and the two of them at the same time. The Queen's face was fully in the sunlight.</p><p>And nothing happened.</p><p>Sophie-Anne stood up quickly, completely immersing herself in the sunrise and leaving Olivia bleeding alone by her feet. She basked into the light just like someone who couldn't for 500 years would. Open arms, red tears in her eyes. After a long moment, maybe the longest or the shortest in Sophie-Anne's life, Olivia broke the silence.</p><p>"How… Is this possible?" Olivia muttered, still confused at the biblical level of a miracle she was witnessing. A vampire was standing fully in the sunlight.</p><p>The Queen's head turned, finally returning her attention to Olivia. With a quiet frown, she asked the million-dollar question.</p><p>"What are you?"</p><p>Then everything clicked. It was <em>her.</em> It was her blood that allowed for this to happen. Her powers, somehow, must have made Olivia's blood special, allowing the Queen to expose herself to the sun.</p><p>"I-" but the words failed to come out. She knew better, she couldn't say the words, she couldn't tell the Queen her secret. Her said little mended heart said <em>yes!</em> Trust her! You love her, she loves you, give yourself fully to someone. <em>Finally,</em> someone who accepts you for who and what you are. But her mind screamed Rule number 1. It was indoctrinated into her head by her father for as long as she could speak. <em>Absolutely under no circumstances tell anyone you are a telepath</em>. But why not? Her father told her mother at some point, didn't he?</p><p>Before she could do or say anything else, the Queen's perfect pearl skin started to softly turn pink and steam. The effects of her blood were not permanent. Sophie-Anne then disappeared into a blur, dashing back inside.</p><p>Clumsily, Olivia got up and tried to follow her into the palace. She felt weak, legs not entirely coordinated. Her left hand still pressed down on her neck, she could feel the blood thickening between her fingers.</p><p>"Sophie-Anne?" Olivia called. This night was <em>not </em>over. It couldn't be. It was supposed to be a dream, not a nightmare.</p><p>She heard loud crashing noises and followed them. Liv found the Queen in her bright day-room, by the pool. She stood alone looking lost, head hanging down, looking at the blood in her hands with the same intense gaze she had when looking for parasites in her beloved plants. Soph was crying in anger, but she was no longer burning.</p><p>"It's wrong!" She cried loudly. Her voice was hoarse, filled with more sorrow than she could hold inside. "It's all wrong!"</p><p>Olivia didn't quite understand what she was talking about until she watched the Queen start throwing empty glasses and bottles from the party up at the chandeliers and wall sconces. Shards of glass and crystals started hailing from above, making Olivia take five steps back away from Sophie-Anne. The lights that were hit were going out one by one with a loud pop as the lights smashed on impact.</p><p>Only three small bulbs were left before the Queen collapsed crying on the floor. Olivia couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly guilty by all of it. She had given the vampire a cruel taste of the sun and now the grand illusion she had spent so long building for herself was shattered.</p><p>Sophie-Anne howled and sobbed, and the second Olivia stepped forward to console her, the Queen roared with her fangs out. "I DO NOT WANT YOU! <em>LEAVE</em>!"</p><p>Olivia may not have said she wasn't entirely human with words, but the Queen was the first person she ever revealed that part of herself to. Sophie-Anne was as special as they came, she was a person Liv trusted and deeply cared about. But what she really got in return was the most painful truth Olivia feared the most all her life - that deeply secret part of herself was so hideous, not even the undead wanted it.</p><p>The Queen cancelled all her meetings and dodged all her phone calls and messages for a week. Then, the letter came. The next day, she was on a flight to Shreveport.</p><hr/><p>The two stared at each other for a very long time, the silence growing between the trees around them as the city went further into sleep. Olivia looked deeply and intensely at him with her sullen brown eyes. It was as if he had asked her to drown a litter of puppies in the Red River.</p><p>"You have no idea what you're asking of me. You are way beyond out of line," she said in a low voice, holding back everything she was feeling. Their blood bond only revealed a deep dark pain, like a heartbreak.</p><p>"You didn't even ask in which way I want you," Eric responded, raising a brow.</p><p>"Does it matter?"</p><p>"No other vampire would claim you-"</p><p>"They already don't. They know I work for you and that's enough."</p><p>"Don't be coy, I've seen the way other vampires look and talk to you at Godric's party."</p><p>"So what is it that you're really after? You want a girlfriend?" There was a bitter tone of sarcasm in her voice as if the thought of Eric wanting a girlfriend was something childish. He guessed in a way, it would be.</p><p>"No. Although I'd be delighted to fuck you," Eric tried to bite back the smile off his face. He tried to take her up to his office within 5 minutes of ever laying eyes on her, this was not brand new information to her. Still, she glared at him in disapproval. "What? You're gonna call HR on me?"</p><p>She rolled her eyes. "You deeply overestimate HR's efficacy with sexual harassment."</p><p>"So it's one of your personal rules then," she didn't respond. "What I <em>want</em> is your blood."</p><p>
  <em>For now.</em>
</p><p>"No," she spoke then looked down at her feet. The woman that stood in front of him was one he hadn't seen before. There was a lot of turmoil in her quietness. Pain in every breath. "I can't."</p><p>There were only three good reasons Olivia Carson - or any other human for that matter - would deny her blood to him. One is fear. Of dying if you are simple; or fear liking it if you are a bit more interesting. The second was hatred. Vampires disgusted certain humans deep in their core. A raw and illogical and downright hatred, like racism or misogyny - can't be fixed, reasoned or argued with. And the third… Well… She wouldn't give him her blood because it wasn't hers to give away.</p><p>"Can't or won't?"</p><p>"What you are asking of me is the exact opposite of what I asked of you," she muttered. She wasn't the type who was afraid to speak. Why was this so important? So forbidden?</p><p>"No, it isn't. I will give you all of the accounts, follow your every request, sign every dot, buy every corner store you want me to buy - shit I'll buy the entire Shreveport if you tell me to. You'll only see me on established work hours, at the office. I will be absolutely truthful in every word. No more games."</p><p>"No. I'm afraid I can't. Plus you wouldn't like it anyway."</p><p>"Oh, look who's not being truthful now," Eric only dealt in absolutes. He didn't take no for an answer. He was uncompromising, relentless and throughout. He was not going to give up an inch, not in any way that mattered. He was not going to let this go. Eric was adamant to have her taste on his lips and the more she fought him, the more thirst overcame him. "You do know I can just take it, right? I doubt Queen Sophie Anne would see it as harmful, especially the way <em>I</em> do it. But I am asking you, in the spirit of boundaries and all."</p><p>Her lips pressed together and he could see her anger rising - she was finally cracking. <em>Yes, let's see what you're made of</em>. "Why can't you be more like Godric?"</p><p>Her words hit him like a punch to the jaw. "You do not get to speak of my Maker."</p><p>"He wouldn't ask me this."</p><p>"You're right, he wouldn't <em>ask. </em>You act as you know him but trust me, you really don't." No one does, not even Eric anymore. Not really. "I gave you my blood."</p><p>"Don't act like I wanted it! And you didn't <em>give</em> me your blood either, you pinned me to the wall and forced it down my throat. Ask for something else-"</p><p>"There is nothing else. You are the only thing in this town I don't have."</p><p>Olivia laughed, but not because she found it funny. "You are unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. It was refreshing how anger always brought her back to life. "How about this, we change the game."</p><p><em>Interesting.</em> "Go on."</p><p>"Instead of being a punishment-based game, it's a reward-based system."</p><p>He cocked a brow. "In which you give me your blood?"</p><p>"Only if you are <em>very</em> good, Mr. Northman," she smiled maliciously. "Like, giving me the keys to my own Taj Mahal good. But even then, I won't be yours."</p><p><em>Yes, you will.</em> "I'm listening."</p><p>"Since you said you'll give access to all the accounts… Please do come in, Mr. Northman." She stepped aside, standing tall again like her usual self.</p><p>Eric put his foot forward and just like nothing had happened, he entered his own house. He stared her down, being a guest in his own house didn't feel much like a reward. There was a noise in the driveway, Pam had pulled up in her dark red Porsche Macan. Laughter and drunken giggles were coming from the car, followed by the sound of her pumps on the pavement - Pam had not come home alone.</p><p>"Up the stairs, you go ladies," Pam commanded three hot college girls. They were a bit tipsy and got momentarily quiet at the sight of Eric and Olivia talking in the foyer. Mostly at the sight of him. Eric felt envious of the night Pam was about to have for a second. She was out having fun with lively young gals, and here he was negotiating with a bureaucratic terrorist.</p><p>Pam stopped suddenly at the door, the girls disappeared upstairs leaving the tall blonde vampire alone outside.</p><p>"What the fuck is this?!" She roared. "Eric why the <em>fuck</em> can't I enter the house?!"</p><p>He of course, had to spin this another way. If Pam really knew what Olivia had done, she would set fire to the house with her inside and laugh at her screams until dawn. "I put the house on Olivia's name, for protection."</p><p>Olivia went stone cold but said nothing. Unlike his progeny who shrieked profanities at the both of them. Eric and Olivia looked deeply at each other, completely ignoring Pamela's threats from the porch. They both knew getting invited into their own home was a shitty <em>reward</em>, but Eric protecting her from Pam was a steep one. If she were to accept it, the ball would be in her court.</p><p>"Please do come in, Pamela." Olivia finally said, uneasy.</p><p>"Oh Jeez, <em>thank</em> you, Olivia. Now can someone explain what the fuck is going on here? Last I remember I didn't agree to a fuckin' house swap, Eric."</p><p>"It's something I've been thinking for a while, Pamela. Putting the house on a human's name gives us the highest layer of protection I can think of."</p><p>"Protection against who exactly? What kind of fuckin' moronic vampire is gon' invade Eric Northman's lair?"</p><p>"The Magister, for one. You two aren't particularly law-abiding vampires." Olivia added.</p><p>If Pam's glare could kill someone, Olivia would drop dead this very instant. She did her famous slow strut, hands high on her hips which was so typical of Pam when she was pissed and had to hide it. She approached Olivia briefly, eying the woman head to toe. "I'm gettin' real tired of <em>you</em> finding… Vulnerabilities."</p><p>"I find liabilities too. Are the girls upstairs even 18 Pamela?" Olivia's eyes glimmered with attitude.</p><p>Pam's fangs came out, but Olivia didn't flinch. This human was either stupid or had a death wish. "Wanna come up and find out, cupcake?"</p><p>But Olivia did not bite on the provocation. "I'll have to trust your judgement."</p><p>"Thought so. Rescind any of our invitations and I'll shove my hand so far up your ass I'll use this pretty hair of yours as a fuckin' feather duster, copy?"</p><p>Olivia didn't move an inch in response. Pam then turned on her boots, and as she passed Eric on her way up the grand stairs, she gave him the cold shoulder. She was right to be pissed at him giving the house away to someone Pam did not like or trust without telling her first. But his progeny's wrath would have been unimaginable if she knew the truth - that their house was stolen while they slept because of a legal loophole of all things. It would be best if she didn't know.</p><p>They were alone on the first floor again, as they heard Pam slam the bedroom door and muffled music blared upstairs as the girls continued their <em>sleepover</em>. Eric pondered some more at the absolute marvel of a woman who stood in front of him. With a contract clause like that, Olivia could have done catastrophic damage - she could have taken everything: the house, the cars, Fangtasia, all the money. Even disappeared into the sunset with it. But this little sneaky plan was not about money or taking assets, it was about sending a message - just like him taking all her clothes. The clothes don't really matter, just as this house at the end of the night, doesn't really matter.</p><p>Eric lived in and owned hundreds of houses in his life - many bigger and better than this one. But the point was not to underestimate Olivia. If he pushed her, she was going to push right back. Even at the cost of <em>mutual destruction</em>, as she put it. She was not afraid of going there and she wanted him to know.</p><p>Olivia was a <em>hell</em> of a punishment, and one day she was going to be his. It was just a matter of time, and time he had an infinity of.</p><p>"See you tomorrow at 8 PM to discuss contractors for the strip mall?" Eric asked, putting his hands in his pockets before they went exploring Olivia's exposed arms.</p><p>"Certainly, Mr. Northman," She nodded, picking up her briefcase gently.</p><p>And for another intended - or not - reward, he enjoyed watching her walk away.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.: hello bonjour!</p><p>This chapter took a while to write because it had a lot ~emotion~ and I had to get into the right headspace for it. I hope the wait was worth it!</p><p>Thank you for everyone's comments and questions! They are incredibly helpful and I will always answer the plot questions in the story (or in a note) so please ask anything you need clarification on.</p><p>And to make things crystal clear - Olivia is a bisexual character. DO NOT come for me as I tagged this story FF/ FM from the beginning! As a bi person IRL I am always disappointed at the bi-representation in media in general. Even in this fandom, I've read so many OC's who had a "liking girls phase", which I'm sure it happens and it's valid (!) but it was only used in a way to either lead Pamela on, or as a 'quirky' 'sexy' trait that was never used or explored. So if you are bi yourself, I'm here, I see you. (rant over)</p><p>I hope everyone had a magical holiday/winter vacation, thank you everyone for the kudos/bookmarks/comments</p><p>Until the next time xoxoxoxo</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Wargasm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olivia woke up and followed her recently established morning routine of hell. She rolled out of the soft hotel bed, ripped off all her clothes and hopped into the brisk cold shower. Her mind replayed the dream in her head automatically, despite her best attempts of thinking of something else - anything else.</p><p>She felt her skin burning with so much desire not even the numbing water subdued her wanting. Liv finally succumbed to the lust and touched herself, trying to think of anyone else she could, but her mind had been poisoned, infected with thoughts of him. Being alone with him in his house, having him brush his hands on her arms. The low rumble of his voice, the way he said her name, his undivided attention, the way he looked at her, it all filled a craving she had deep down within her.</p><p>And there was no more strength left inside her to repel the urge. After she was done, she sat on the floor of the shower, feeling the water rain down on her, enjoying the momentary bliss of the oxytocin clouding her brain. Olivia hoped this didn't mean she was losing control over herself. Lose control, break the rules, unravel in any way and it <em>will</em> all come crashing down. That and death were the only two certainties Olivia believed in life.</p><p>At least having dirty fantasies about Eric Northman was somewhat better than craving the touch of Sophie-Anne, or Jamie or anyone else who had broken her heart in the past. In a strange moment of clarity, Olivia realized a lot of pieces had fallen into place. She would never attend Curia Regis, meaning that with luck she would never have to see Sophie-Anne again. She wouldn't have to worry about falling in love with Eric Northman because she doubted the man had a heart to begin with. It was all games with him. Sex games, power games, money games, blood games. She would never have to worry about his feelings about her either.</p><p>To get her mind away from vampire matters, Olivia threw herself into work as usual. To turn Fangtasia into a strip club there was some paperwork to be filled and sent to the Louisiana Office of Alcohol and Tobacco Control. As she read the rules and legislation surrounding strip clubs in this <em>fine</em> state, she sunk a bit deeper in her armchair. No actual nudity was allowed in any establishment that sold alcohol - that meant underwear and nipple covers must be worn at all times. What an odd time and place for politicians to worry about <em>morals</em> when she was willing to bet real money that every southern representative had done at <em>least</em> a body shot from a naked stripper at some point in their lives.</p><p>Eric and Pam weren't going to be very pleased about this. Why must all her battles be uphill?</p><p>Olivia started to get dressed before heading to her 8 PM meeting with the world's perhaps last remaining Viking. She put on a brand new white button-up shirt and a high waisted dark yellow pencil skirt with a fun mod print. She threw on a chunky jewelled turquoise necklace and some nude heels. Olivia got everything at Kohls, and although shopping was fun, she missed her own clothes terribly. Nothing she found at stores here were really her taste. She wondered what it would take to have Eric give them back, but Liv didn't have to think <em>too</em> hard on that riddle.</p><p>The bedroom TV was on while she put on makeup in the bathroom and she could hear about the Newlin terrorist attack case. The list of charges was as long as a CVS receipt, but domestic terrorism did not make the list. She was sure if a vampire or person of colour had done it, this would be the national scandal of the year. Disappointing but not surprising. The news spent a lot of their time focusing on the human victims, and (again, completely predictable) the vampires killed were merely a footnote. She was sure Eric was happy Stan Baker got no time on national television, even after true death. Tonight's update was on Steve Newlin posting bail in the value of 800 thousand dollars, completely crowdfunded by his followers. <em>Yikes.</em></p><p>Not long after she pulled into Fangtasia and drove around the back parking lot, which was usually reserved for vampire patrons, and much to her surprise there were several other cars parked here. It was Monday, and Fangtasiay was theoretically closed. Cautiously she knocked on the back door, and Pamela swung the door open with the same blank expression vampires always had.</p><p>"You again."</p><p>"I have a meeting with Mr. Northman at-"</p><p>"If I cared any less I'd die again." Pam rolled her eyes and let Olivia inside.</p><p>The lights were on, the music was off but there were definitely people - vampires - all around the bar. Eric sat on his throne as usual, and he talked to a small young redheaded vampire who stood at the bottom of the stage steps with teary eyes. Pam went back behind the bar as she was doing inventory. No one here was partying. The rest of the vampires sat quietly or whispered amongst each other while watching Eric.</p><p>The Viking glanced at Olivia and motioned her to sit at the bar and wait.</p><p>"Why are they here?" She asked Pamela.</p><p>"To bitch and complain mostly," she did not look up from her clipboard. "This is a vamp court of common pleas. Happens every Monday but tonight there's more drama than usual so Eric's runnin' late."</p><p>Olivia quietly watched the show and couldn't help but wonder… How did Eric have time to do it all? Keep the local vampires in line, hold court meetings, take offenders to the Magister, run Fangtasia, sell drugs on the side, torture humans in the basement, make her life difficult…. It was a lot. Maybe he was also a workaholic like she was. But judging by the bored look on his face… He did not enjoy court time.</p><p>Slowly but surely, the vampires started to glance and stare at her who sat by herself at the bar. Hungry smiles and unblinking eyes watched her carefully. She figured it would only be a matter of time until one of them accosted her. She swallowed dry and wished Eric wrapped up the court soon. Olivia couldn't help but think on Eric's proposition from Friday night - to be his. Liv quietly shuddered at the thought of Sophie Anne finding out Eric had had her blood. The Queen would kill them both. But a tiny part of her liked that. The Queen's jealousy would at least be something. Proof that at least part of her cared.</p><p>But on the other hand, it would be allowing Eric to get a little too close for comfort. It would be dangling lustful bliss in front of her very hungry flesh. Just the thought of his lips on her bare skin awoke the middle of her legs. Maybe this would hurt Sophie Anne too.</p><p>She shook the thoughts away as she noticed Eric Northman dismiss the court. This line of thinking was <em>dangerous</em>. There were many more valid reasons why the good Sheriff could not - would not - <em>ever</em> taste her blood. The taste of her blood would be a giveaway she wasn't exactly all human for one. Draining her dry and killing her was another.</p><p>She focused her attention on Pam again, who was now counting glasses. The vampire noticed being watched and did not particularly care for it. "Heard you refused to belong to my Maker. I did not peg you for being dumb."</p><p>"Oh, being Eric's puppet is considered the <em>smart</em> move nowadays, is it?"</p><p>"Let's just say...He pulls <em>good</em> string." She gave her a small but nasty smile that sent shivers down her spine.</p><p>Olivia did not care to find out what strings exactly planned on pulling, but a little growing part of her was starting to want to find out. The devil himself motioned for Olivia to follow him to his office as the rest of the vampires cleared out the bar. A very attractive Asian vampire with a body covered in tattoos up to his neck gave her a sexy side smile as he headed for the exit. <em>Oh my. </em>Soon, she was alone with Eric in his office again.</p><p>"My apologies, the common court ran a bit long."</p><p>"That's alright," Olivia nodded as they both sat down in their respective chairs. His, behind the desk, her in front of it. "Is Pamela not joining us?"</p><p>"You'll only deal with me from now on, as promised."</p><p>"Oh," Olivia muttered surprised. It was in the terms he offered, but she didn't expect him to actually… Do it. They must be playing <em>her</em> game now. Eric must really want her blood.</p><p>"She was devastated to not spend more time with you, of course," he smiled sarcastically.</p><p>"Ah, yes, I imagine she must be so upset." Olivia raised her brows for a moment, opening her briefcase and getting this meeting on the road.</p><p>They discussed contractors for the strip mall renovations which had nothing to do with updating safety codes or improving property value, no. The two openly discussed which company was the sleaziest and would not complain about being paid in cash and produced vague invoices that Olivia could manipulate. Eric was sitting on about 20k of dirty money waiting to be hand washed and hung dry. The Queen expected about 10k of it by the end of the month.</p><p>"You are aware some of it will inevitably be lost to taxes, right? At least 12%?"</p><p>"Our reigning Queen gets her cut, always. I usually get whatever is left."</p><p>That didn't sound like the best of deals. Eric was doing all the dirty work, but would only take home 7.6k of the money had accumulated recently. Vampire drug dealing had its own hierarchy rules and it wasn't up to Olivia to question them. But perhaps, if Olivia could figure out how to make Eric keep more of his own money, it could be one of his rewards. She didn't entirely think her offer through - she had to come up with things Eric Northman would like as rewards. Though the list was short and simple and sexy, they were dangerous.</p><p>"Why do you do it?" Olivia asked curiously. "Sell vampire blood, I mean?"</p><p>"Because the Queen has commanded me to."</p><p>"Yes, but if you could have easily told the Authority. She answers to her superiors."</p><p>Vampires deemed their own blood to be sacred and never to be profited from. If the Authority knew the Queen was forcing her underlings to sell it for her she would be publicly executed faster than you can say 'traitor'.</p><p>He leaned back on his chair some more. "You know a lot about vampires, more than most humans. But there's plenty you don't know."</p><p>"Then tell me."</p><p>Eric hesitated for a moment. "What is your biggest fear, Olivia?"</p><p>She didn't quite expect this question and was a bit nervous about what exactly he was going to do with said information. But Olivia had a pretty big fear that had nothing to do with vampires. One that haunted her mind every time she doubted a decision she made in relation to her work. "Men in dark blue windbreakers enter the room, approach me and say 'step away from the computer ma'am'. And then they take it all away and handcuff me."</p><p>"I have a very similar fear, actually," Eric leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk. "Except in mine, vampires approach me and say 'Long live Eric Northman, the King'."</p><p>If Sophie-Anne fell, there was a very real possibility he would be appointed as King of Louisiana. It was strange to her that he wouldn't want to be King given the… <em>Everything</em> about him. But he was right about one thing - there was plenty she didn't know. And she believed it was part of her job to find out.</p><p>Eric and Olivia decided on two different contractor possibilities - one of them had built Fangtasia years prior and Eric vaguely trusted him. She would get quotes from both companies this week. It was time for the final big-ticket item on her meeting agenda.</p><p>"Fangtasia could also use some upgrades when we rebrand to a strip club. Here's a folder with all the documents that need to be signed, along with a booklet for all the new rules you'll have to adhere to."</p><p>"I suppose we need poles installed," Eric sighed at the sight of more papers.</p><p>Olivia could feel her hotel bed calling her. "I was also thinking of adding some VIP lounge areas too. Plus you'll need a sizable employee changing room for the dancers."</p><p>"Pamela is already on it, trust me."</p><p>"Good. I can be of assistance, should she need anything," she clipped her briefcase shut, pleased with the productive and successful meeting with Eric Northman, <em>finally</em>.</p><p>"I'll let her know."</p><p>"Good evening, Mr. Northman," Olivia got up with her briefcase and gave him a curt nod. She knew vampires didn't shake hands.</p><p>Liv spun on her heels and was halfway across the small office when she felt a rush of air brush her arm. "Aren't you forgetting <em>one</em> little thing?"</p><p>Olivia had stopped on her tracks to keep her from crashing into Eric who was now standing between her and the doorway. She felt slightly confused but mostly annoyed at what he was implicating. "We had <em>one</em> productive meeting, Eric. I'm not rewarding you for the bare minimum."</p><p>"This is your game. If you want me to play, you have to keep it interesting," he teased, a bit too pleased with himself that he could behave for a full 1-hour meeting.</p><p>"Fine, what do you want?"</p><p>She was expecting him to ask for her blood, or maybe for her outfit <em>again</em>, even ask for the millionth time what she was, or how she did certain unexplainable things, but what came out of his beautiful mouth was much, much worse. "Tell me about your dreams. Specifically the latest one. I got the impression it was a good one because it made you…" His voice trailed off into the sexiest smile.</p><p>Olivia had to contract every muscle in her entire body in order not to punch him square in the jaw. She took a subtle deep breath and prayed her face didn't flush with the rising heat of her blood boiling. She couldn't even goddamn touch herself without Eric knowing.</p><p>"Okay," she raised her chin and looked up at the tall Viking. "I'll tell you. I was on my knees…"</p><p>His smile grew, his attention clinging to her every word. "And?"</p><p>"And I was wearing a leather strap-on with a ten-inch-"</p><p>His smile instantly faded back into his plain stare. "Fine. Don't tell me then."</p><p>"My private life is off-limits," she reminded him, trying not to look too amused at his disappointment. "Dreams included."</p><p>"I like to think I've been <em>incredibly</em> patient with you after all you've done-"</p><p>"And you expect me to do what? Tell you my dirty dreams, get so lost in the fantasy that I give in and bend over your desk and beg you to fuck me?"</p><p>He was surprised at her words. "Well, that was certainly saucy."</p><p>That was <em>exactly</em> what he wanted, and Olivia regretted saying the words. "I think you have the scales tipped the wrong way, Mr. Northman. Pamela still owes me 14 grand for Debbie Pelt's bail."</p><p>"I'll cover the bail fee, the rest you can get from the bond officer after Debbie's court appearance."</p><p>Olivia frowned for a second, a bit stunned with the information. "She's still alive?"</p><p>"Oh yes, I need her alive. Debbie Pelt has a role to play," he read the curiosity on her face before adding. "I'll tell you what it is if you kiss me."</p><p>Trying her hardest not to scoff, she told him good night and left Fangtasia.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Olivia drove out of town, urging to put some miles between her and Eric. She found a little tucked bar off the first exit east of Shreveport, Merlotte's Bar and Grill. She plopped down at the bar and ordered a beer and french fries from a very rude bartender. She was a loud broadcaster and was more than mentally done with her shift and wanted more than anything to go home and smoke weed. Dealing with Eric Northman was a nightmare when she was awake, and a different kind of nightmare when she was asleep. She decided she needed to get laid, or drink this vampire off her mind, or both. It burned a hole of hatred in her soul knowing that Eric would know <em>every time</em> she orgasmed. That was so fucking embarrassing on so many levels. Just when she had managed to set some boundaries between them, he pulls <em>this </em>shit.</p><p>But on the other hand…</p><p>If say, she was to find a skilled partner… Eric would know every time she orgasmed. The prospect was almost too good to pass.</p><p>She sighed, giving up on this momentary delusion. People's thoughts were the clearest when she touched them, which is a pretty big part of sex. And trust her, you don't want to know what goes through a man's head during sex. Women tend to not be so nasty, but much harder to seduce. So even when Olivia did have sex, she spent most of her time focusing on keeping the mind wall raised which didn't leave a whole lot of energy to focus on the actual pleasure. This had been Olivia's long adult-life dilemma, and for these reasons, she always returned to her trusty vibrator which never let her down.</p><p>As she was about to ask the bartender for the bill, a man entered the bar area, causing the rude lady bartender to end her shift with a bark. "Goddammit Sam, you payin' me overtime or what?!"</p><p>"Sorry Tara, Jeep had a flat on my way back from town-"</p><p>"Ever heard of a cell phone? Coulda called."</p><p>Sam, the new bartender, looked a bit flustered when he noticed Olivia was watching the two argue. Tara disappeared out back, and Sam slung a dish towel over his shoulder. He was in his late 30s, had a dusty brown-going-grey outgrown hair cut but in a flattering way, and a pretty face with blue eyes.</p><p>"What else can I get you, ma'am?" He had the most darling southern accent and shook off Tara's attitude with the most heart-melting smile.</p><p>Olivia's instinct kicked in, and she reached into his mind to read his first impression of her (it was habit at this point), but all she got was static. She had encountered static in people's minds a couple of times before (once during a poker game and she lost big time) but it was certainly unusual. She had a working theory that werewolves (like Debbie Pelt) had cloudy minds, and other supernatural beings had distinct mind waves. What else existed out there, she did not know.</p><p>Maybe it was the alcohol taking over but what Liv <em>did </em>know, was that she had asked the universe for multiple orgasms, and the universe gave her an attractive man with no read-able thoughts.</p><p>"Oh, another beer please," she smiled with fluttery eyelashes.</p><hr/><p>"This is some triple grade of bullshit Eric!" Pam shrieked from the couch. "No nipples? No <em>actual</em> nudity? What kind of strip club ain't got titties?!"</p><p>Her Maker was as annoyed as she was. Human laws were always so flawed and backwards, but they never cease to disappoint. But then again, what to expect from a country founded by puritans?</p><p>"You'll just have to compensate with talent and hotness," Eric sighed, throwing Olivia's folder on Louisiana strip club rules back on the 'deal with later hopefully never' pile. Also known as 'Pam's pile'.</p><p>"No shit," she muttered angrily. "I'll put ads around and see what we get."</p><p>"Lock up before you leave? I have common court business to deal with,"</p><p>She nodded and kept flipping through the litany of bullshit rules when she noticed her Maker shiver head to toe as he stood from his office chair. He froze still for a moment before smiling with eyes gently closed.</p><p>"You alright there?" Pam cocked a brow.</p><p>"Yes Pamela," he stated as he stretched his neck once in a full circle, regaining focus and continued his way across the office.</p><p>Some things were better left unspoken she guessed. But then Eric did it again, full-body shudder, she even noticed he had goosebumps on his arms.</p><p>"What's going on with you? Walked through a ghost or somethin'?"</p><p>"Not it's Olivia," he said with a small smile. "She's had my blood in Dallas, just a little but enough for me to pick up on her stronger emotions."</p><p>Pamela, of course, already knew that. "That's an idiotic idea if I've ever heard one."</p><p>Another shudder, but for whatever reason, he seemed entertained by it all. Clearly, Olivia wasn't in any trouble or else he would have dashed out of here. So she must be feeling something else.</p><p>"Is she equally as pissed with Louisiana law as I am?"</p><p>"No," he smiled. "No, she's dreaming of me."</p><p>Pam glanced at the office clock - it was 11:45. "Huh,"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I just figured working for vampires Olivia would be a bit of a night owl."</p><p>Her maker caught on her line of thinking and also checked the clock. He suddenly was no longer smiling which to her was way funnier than it should have been. Eric tried to contain the next shudder by tensing his whole body, but he still felt all of it. His face scrunched to a snarl showing his fangs.</p><p>"So you can feel Olivia having a good time but she ain't dreaming, is she?" Before Eric could hear Pamela cackling, he dashed out of the door and disappeared into the sky.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.: hello bonjour!</p><p>I was in the mood for a light-hearted chapter after the turmoil of the last one. But this is not a filler! Lot's of important information were sprinkled in here. Had some questions in the comments that I'll clarify now:</p><p>Q: Did QSA claim Olivia?</p><p>Sophie-Anne and Olivia exchanged blood in that one fateful sunrise kiss (SA nicked her own tongue mid-kiss), but she refused to claim Olivia afterwards, so NO. Olivia has never belonged to a vampire, or to anyone.</p><p>Q: What can Eric feel of Olivia?</p><p>Olivia had just a drop of Eric's blood. This means he can read her emotions while they are near, and pick up on ~strong~ emotions while they are apart (like fear, and in this case, big Os). The more of his blood that Olivia ingests, the stronger his 'radar' will be.</p><p>Q: Can't Eric just claim her?</p><p>He can't draw her blood against her will due to the edict of protection on Olivia (despite him boasting otherwise)</p><p>Q: How does V as a drug work?</p><p>The show has MAD plot holes on this, and it will be explained soon in detail when we dive into the drug dealing stuff.</p><p>Hope this was helpful. Thank you all so much for the LOVELY comments, this fandom is absolutely incredible even though this show ended like 7-8(?) years ago. I dipped my toes in other fandoms that were literal dumpster fire and I keep always returning to this one &lt;3 love u all</p><p>til next time xoxoxo</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Wicked Ones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eric walked on a tightrope every night. He wasn't so sure how his life got this fucked up, but here he was. While the shower was running, he took off his leather jacket and tossed all his bloodied clothes into the hamper. He wet a facecloth next and started wiping his jacket clean, working every stitch, every nook of the buttons, every valley of the zipper. It was somewhat cathartic.</p><p>It had been a busy week, month, year, he couldn't even remember the last time he had time off. Although he longed for some peace and quiet, he knew he would be bored out of his mind 2 hours into it. Or at least that's what he told himself.</p><p>Tonight he had caught a group of three vampire drainers and disposed of them appropriately (hence the blood); solved a conflict between two neighbouring nests and broken into the Lakemount Church, the local Fellowship of the Sun affiliated faith group. They had no vampire cells in their basement like their Dallas friends, but there was a sizable gun locker, plus silver nets and boxes and boxes of silver and wooden bullets. Eric did a quick count and found no bullets missing from the boxes, and the silver nets were still folded neatly in their packages, brand new. Nothing seemed to be ever used, but the fact that a religious group was hoarding this kind of weapons was bad enough it warranted a call to Nan Flanagan.</p><p>If he could pay a fee to never have to deal with Flanagan again, he would gladly pay it and tip extra on top of it. However just this once Eric was glad to give this pile of shit to someone else to handle. Pam was busy enough taking care of Fangtasia, and handling their DEA mole plus living her best life which included plenty of sex, blood and deviltry.</p><p>His phone started ringing on the bathroom counter and he died a little further inside once he recognized the number.</p><p>"Your Majesty, at what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"</p><p>"My bank account is feeling awfully light, Eric."</p><p>The Queen wasted no time. "Carson is on it."</p><p>"No, she's not. If she were, the money would already be on my account."</p><p>Eric gritted his teeth. The Queen's childish impatience got on his nerves. "I'll make sure she's on it, you'll get the money promised."</p><p>"Good, you have two days."</p><p>Having to pressure Olivia into doing something faster was the last thing he needed to add to his never-ending list of shit to do. "The deal we had gave me until the end of the week-"</p><p>"I'm altering the deal, Eric. Don't you have the money?"</p><p>"I have it dirty, if you want it clean you'll have to wait."</p><p>Silence on the line. "Send it to me dirty. All of it," she demanded.</p><p>And then a click.</p><p>"Fucking bitch-"</p><p>Eric felt like throwing his phone across the bathroom and watch it shatter into pieces, but instead just lightly tossed it on the pile of dirty clothes. He hoped in the shower and washed the rest of the blood off. He felt tension in every part of his body and he yearned for release. It didn't help that now he had to speak with Olivia, who only compounded every craving in his body. But Eric knew he always got what he wanted, sooner or later. And when he did get Olivia, it was going to be a finger-licking, world-shattering, raw and primal release. Those little shudders he felt from her pleasure were nothing but the slight tickle of a feather compared to what he planned for their time together.</p><p>He texted Olivia and required her presence at the bar to which she agreed without protest. It wasn't much later that he appeared back at Fangtasia himself, but he wasn't in the mood for the stage. Instead, he sat at the only VIP booth, in the very corner opposite to the bar. Ginger approached him, trembling with excitement as usual. Or maybe she was just cold - he kept Fangtasia on the cool side, as the Louisiana heat was rather uncomfortable for the dead. Eric also found out human employees were a bit like deer: keep them cold and they'll keep roaming around the tables, serving customers and doing work to keep warm.</p><p>"Anything I can get for you, Master?"</p><p>It was a bit cringy every time she called him that. "Just bring me Olivia Carson when she arrives." Ginger slumped her shoulders slightly at the mention of the accountant but didn't walk away from the edge of the table. "Yes, Ginger?"</p><p>"I was thinkin'..." <em>Thinking? This ought to be good.</em> "I've been workin' here longer than anyone, other than yourself and Pamela of course-"</p><p>"Out with it, woman."</p><p>"I was thinkin' I could do the books ya know? More responsibility, I think I'm ready for it and-"</p><p>Eric looked up at the poor waitress and stared deep into her eyes. This was something he actively avoided doing out of fear Ginger would explode on the spot. He reached deep into her mind, her whole bony body relaxed, almost dropping the serving tray she was holding. "Why do you want to do the books?"</p><p>"So Olivia don't gotta talk to you as much. You like her, so I don't."</p><p>Eric smirked at the hilarity of Ginger's jealousy. He severed the glamour hold between them. "Olivia does a lot more than the books. Now get back to work, table seven just finished their drinks."</p><p>Ginger disappeared among the crowd and Eric could finally have a few moments for himself, or at least that's what he thought. Not two minutes went by and Chow slid into the booth with him. He liked Chow, he was both clever and funny and probably the only other male vampire in Shreveport who could compete with him in terms of acquiring female companionship. He was 5'10, lean and muscular and had dragon tattoos running down both arms, shoulders and all of his chest from his Yakuza days. He also had a pretty face, and Eric had never seen the vampire wear a shirt - he sported only a vest and slacks most of the time, tonight being no exception. There was an obvious air of danger surrounding him, which most women were always attracted to.</p><p>Every so often Chow and Eric targeted the same woman at Fangtasia. Chow was young, he had been a vampire for maybe 20 years and needed much more blood to survive, so Eric often let him have her out courtesy. No need to spoil a friendship over some fangbanger blood. Plus Chow was as loyal as they came, and often helped Eric in the common court matters, along with keeping him updated with any noteworthy news. He had a sharp judgement to filter out secrets and relevant information from petty gossip.</p><p>"Eric," Chow nodded and returned the gesture. "Is it true I hear you're turning Fangtasia into a strip club?"</p><p>Being a prominent vampire in the area, it was impossible to keep certain moves quiet. "Do you object?"</p><p>"Not at all," he wanted to smile but held back. "I came to offer my services to you. I've worked as a bouncer before, you'll definitely need more muscle to keep staff safe."</p><p>"You think my progeny is not up to the task?" He cocked a brow. If Pam heard Chow say this out loud she would rip him a new one, quite literally.</p><p>"All I'm saying is that strippers bring more male patrons, male patrons bring trouble,"</p><p>Eric paused for a second. Chow, of course, was correct. Still, he held himself stiff as a board, as if he had bad news. "Alright, but why do I get the feeling this isn't all you came for?"</p><p>"It's not. The word on the street is," he slightly leaned forward and lowered his voice. "That Hot Rain has summoned Long Shadow and he did not return."</p><p>"Ah, I see," as he wouldn't, since his remains were long dissolved in the Red River. "What else do the streets say?"</p><p>"That you killed him."</p><p>Aren't the streets smart lately? "He got tired of Fangtasia and left. I don't make vampires stay if they don't want to. Good riddance is all I say."</p><p>"And this has nothing to do with her?" Chow did not need to specify who he was talking about. "The impression is that she is available despite being in your office multiple times-"</p><p>"What I do, or don't do in my office is none of your concern." The contempt in his voice felt cold.</p><p>"Of course," his eyes darted down to the table. "His disappearance and her arrival just had… Coincidental timing, that's all." Eric knew that Chow, like most vampires, didn't believe in coincidences. There was another question on the tip of his tongue. Perhaps he wanted to ask his permission to have Olivia but didn't quite have the balls. Eric didn't think any less of him for it, though. They both knew Olivia wasn't quite like the others.<br/>"Olivia has an edict of protection on her, signed by our Queen and trusted upon me," Chow looked up in confusion. Edicts of protection were rare, and he probably never even heard of one. "Even so much as touching one golden-red hair on her head without her consent and I'll have to kill you. Are you sure you want to go down that path?"</p><p>Chow's face closed off, and that was the end of the conversation. Eric felt like a father with a shotgun scaring his daughter's suitor, like in the movies. If Chow wanted to have Olivia he would have to do it the old-fashioned way, and he didn't even tell him yet that she could not be glamoured. Though letting another vampire pursue Olivia might convince her to be his - better to choose the devil you know than the devil you don't. But it was a gamble he wasn't so sure he was willing to lose.</p><p>Ginger interrupted their silence by bringing Olivia over from the door. He could read her obvious distaste for the task on her face. But most importantly, the two vampires did not take their eyes off Fangtasia's latest guest.</p><p>"Get I get you a True Blood, Mister Chow?" Ginger asked.</p><p>"He was just leaving," Eric informed her.</p><p>Slowly Chow left the booth, but once he stood beside Olivia he gave her a sly smile to which she did not react. He gently touched her right hand and brought it up to his lips as he bowed, then planted a soft kiss on the top of her knuckles. She smiled politely, and without a word, Chow returned to his nest's table. Ginger watched the whole thing with a death glare before leaving the two alone.</p><p>"What's the emergency?" Olivia spoke calmly. She wore a tight, knee-length black dress, black hose and black ankle boots with a tall heel. She looked as beautiful as always but her wardrobe was definitely not as refined as it used to be. Taking her clothes was the punishment that kept on giving.</p><p>"I hear congratulations are in order. It's my understanding that solo homeownership before the age of 30 is quite impressive in human terms."</p><p>"Owning property in Shreveport is hardly something to cheer about," her face was stone cold.</p><p>A little part of him wished she liked the permanence of living here. He didn't want her to go away so soon. "Am I at least getting a housewarming party invite?"</p><p>"Sorry you didn't make the cut on the guest list," sarcasm was her strong suit. "Is that all? This could have been a text."</p><p>Eric motioned her to sit, and she complied with just a bit of hesitation. She sat at the edge of the booth, and he had to motion again that he wanted her presence right <em>next</em> to him. Reluctantly, she shuffled closer. His arm stretched and pulled her in as close as two people could sit. He could feel the warmth of her skin radiating from her, along with her beautifully delicate scent. Eric could feel her heartbeat increase, and she had goosebumps on her forearms. <em>Good.</em></p><p>Music was playing loudly in the speakers, but Eric dropped his voice lower to be safe. "Our Queen wants her money now. All of the 20 thousand, <em>as is.</em>"</p><p>Olivia flinched slightly, concerned. "But that's dangerous. For both of you, I already took care of the contractor invoices, and I was going to clean the money slowly in the next 10 days like you asked. If I don't proceed now there will be obvious discrepancies in the accounts," Eric was unaware the Queen's wishes could so easily bite him in the ass too. "So we do have a problem."</p><p>"We do," Eric ran his fingers through the hair on the back of her head, his face was right next to hers. For everyone else, they looked like lovers in a booth. He knew that because everyone was staring with envy.</p><p>Olivia noticed it too. "What are you doing?" She asked with a frown.</p><p>"There have been inquiries about you," he spoke softly into her hair, his fingers now caressed the top of her shoulder.</p><p>"Who? What kind of inquiries?" She was nervous. He liked that.</p><p>"Vampires. As I told you they would, sooner or later."</p><p>He could tell she wanted to roll her eyes. Whatever bad news she was expecting, vampires taking interest in her did not phase her in the slightest. "And I think you are making this all up. You could just tell whoever is asking that there's an edict of protection on me and that I don't want to be claimed, end of story. You just want everyone to think I am yours."</p><p><em>No, I just want you to actually be mine</em>. "Clever girl."</p><p>Olivia did not look amused. He was about to tell her that is exactly what he did, but she spoke in a solemn tone. "The Queen is in trouble, or else she wouldn't-"</p><p>"I know. So what are you going to do about it?"</p><p>She looked deeply into his eyes, deep in thought. Her scent intoxicated every part of him, making him want to kiss her. And what she said next, was just the cherry on top. "I have an idea for your reward if you want one," she suddenly perked up full of energy and slid out of his arms and exited the booth. She stood there looking at him, anxious. "This will have to take place in your office."</p><p>Eric immediately followed her. As the two crossed the Fangtasia floor, he tried not to look too smug while making full eye contact with Chow. He just pursed his lips behind a bottle of True Blood, watching the two disappear in the back without a blink. He had to hurry the pace slightly, as Olivia walked eagerly to the back room. Once they were alone in his office, he made sure to quietly lock the door behind him.</p><p>Olivia stood by his desk, quickly dialling a number on her phone. He noted she knew the number by heart and thought this was a strange reward.</p><p>"Who are you calling that you just happen to know their number off the top of your head?"</p><p>"I memorized all the important numbers I need in case I get arrested-"</p><p>It's not like cops gave you your cell phone back for your one entitled phone call. "Do you know my number by heart?"</p><p>Olivia brought her index finger to his lips, telling him to be quiet, as the line was ringing at the other end. She didn't answer his question with words, but the look on her face told him. She did know his number. Eric was caught by a feeling he didn't quite know how to describe. If she were in trouble, she would call <em>him</em>. While he hoped it never happened, he felt oddly honoured. The mystery person finally answered the call.</p><p>"Your Majesty," Olivia spoke loud and clear.</p><p>There was a pause on the line. Olivia didn't have to put the phone on speaker, as she knew Eric could easily overhear every word. How was calling Sophie-Anne a reward? Would he finally learn what happened between them? He would love for her secrets to be a reward.</p><p>"<em>Olivia</em>," the Queen's voice sounded extra cold on the line.</p><p>"It has been brought to my attention that you require an immediate wire transfer."</p><p>Always so professional. But her face had nothing but worry on it. "<em>Yes, as I told Eric, I need it in a couple of days max."</em></p><p>"What's so important? I know your expenses are taken care of."</p><p>Bold of her to question the Queen's spending.</p><p>"<em>There are some debts I simply must pay-"</em></p><p>Olivia's concern was filling the room. "To whom?"</p><p>"<em>It's none your fucking business-"</em></p><p>"I asked to whom!" She repeated angrily. He had never witnessed someone yell at the Queen before, even on the phone, nevertheless a <em>human</em>. If the Queen were actually here, Olivia would be dead for sure.</p><p>"<em>Are you alone?"</em></p><p>"Yes," she lied.</p><p>"<em>The Mississippi King," </em>the Queen confessed.</p><p>Eric raised his brows in astonishment. This was <em>Bad, </em>capital B.</p><p>"You're not gambling again, are you?"</p><p>There was another silence on the line. "<em>It was just a silly bet."</em></p><p>"Sophie-Anne-" Olivia pressed sternly.</p><p>"<em>It was just a game of cribbage-</em>"</p><p>"You lost 20 thousand on a game of crib?!" Olivia now sounded like an angry wife.</p><p>"<em>It wasn't </em>a <em>game of crib, we played like 21 rounds. And it was 60 thousand, I'm just short 20, it's not a big deal, Liv-"</em></p><p>Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You're gambling again." She sounded and looked deeply disappointed. "You promised me you were going to stop."</p><p>As the silence grew deafening in the room, Eric could not believe what he was witnessing. If he was not in the room himself and watched this whole scene with his own two eyes would have never believed that the Queen of Louisiana was confessing a gambling problem to a <em>human</em>. He was beginning to suspect Olivia was not the Queen's mere accountant.</p><p>"<em>I promised a lot of things. You have two days."</em> And the call ended.</p><p>"Now you know the Queen's dirty little secret," Olivia took a deep breath and quietly walked away, her body moved as if she felt heavy. "You've been rewarded."</p><p>It took a minute for him to process the information he was just gifted - perhaps cursed - with. Nevermind the enormous consequences of his boss owing money to <em>Russell Edgington</em> implied, the gift lied in between the lines.</p><p>"You really want me to fuck her over, don't you?" He smirked when her lips pressed together. <em>Bingo.</em> "She cast you away as punishment and now you're trying to get even. Question is, what is she punishing you for? A mistake? Unsatisfactory results, perhaps?" But all he got from her the sparkle of anger in her eyes. He was close. Olivia called the Queen by her first name - no vampire worth his fangs did that, and he couldn't believe Olivia simply didn't know proper vampire etiquette. She had a perfect track record on the matter so far. "Maybe, someone got a bit <em>too close-"</em></p><p>"Do you know why I prefer to work with vampires over the Mexican cartel?" Her voice was sharp.</p><p>"Because you clearly have a death wish?"</p><p>"Because humans are reckless. Everyone is greedy, but men think they are invincible, vampires know they are not."</p><p>He knew she meant every word. "Aren't you poetic?"</p><p>"The Queen is being <em>dangerously</em> reckless. I used to keep her gambling habits at bay, but I'm not in that position anymore. This means the twenty thousand she wants is just the tip of the iceberg. She is going to need larger and larger sums with short notice and high consequences. Which means you'll either have to cover her gambling habit with your own money,"</p><p>"Or?" He asked, already dreading the alternative which he knew damn well what it was.</p><p>"Or we are going to have to sell <em>a lot</em> more drugs."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello angels! A whole Eric chapter, would you look at that? It's been a while. I'm still doing a lot of plot set-up, I know the story slowed down a bit but it's going to pick up oh-so-soon.</p><p>I've been actually reading the Sookie Stackhouse novels (they are cute, I like them. I'm on book 6) and although you don't have to read them at all (!) there will be nods to the book in the story. For example, Chow being a hot Japanese model with gang tattoos. They correctly casted so many hot people in this show, why did they skip Chow??? Let's add it to the 'questionable choices' list the show made I guess.</p><p>Anyway, until the next chapter xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Take It Off</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olivia got the keys to her house only 5 days ago and she was already overwhelmed by all of it. Being a homeowner was no joke. The inspection had passed without major problems - the chimney had to be cleaned before the winter, and the water heater would have to be replaced next year. She had paid Eric's contractor extra on the side to do some work on her house. She got them to paint the inside, get rid of the old carpet in the bedrooms, install a glass shower door (she hated changing mouldy plastic curtains) and refinish the hardwood floors throughout. It was a bit costly, but she promised herself this would be the extent of improvements she would be doing to this place. Part of her feared growing any sort of attachments to this house, this town and even (especially) this job. <strong>Rule number 9: no personal belongings.</strong></p><p>It was finally move-in day. She hired a cleaning company to wipe down the place before she moved all 3 boxes of stuff she owned (would have been more if she had her clothes goddammit). She put away the linens and towels and a few clothes she had purchased since her self-eviction. Later today the mattress and bed frame she bought would arrive. There was a lot she would have to buy still: kitchenware, garbage bins, cleaning supplies. She would have to get internet and cable hooked up, plus a landscaping service to keep her citrus trees and vines in check. Changing the locks on the front and back door would be a good call too - who knows who else had the key?</p><p>Standing alone in the empty house she came to the dreadful realization she'd have to buy furniture too, even if it were just the bare minimum. Olivia had procrastinated this task as much as she could, as she was afraid she would get carried away with decorating the house that was supposed to be <em>very </em>temporary. It was meant to be a safe house, not ever a home. One day she would be picking out curtains and matching dining room chairs in her real house - a villa she planned to buy after retirement, facing the ocean in Costa Rica or perhaps Belize. It would have a pool, a veranda off her bedroom. Only then she would allow herself to nest to her heart's content.</p><p>Speaking of curtains, she probably should buy something to cover all the windows here - for privacy purposes. You never know what creatures lurk in the dark.</p><p>The front doorbell rang as she was breaking down the last box. The mattress had arrived - good timing! She would open the plastic package right away and let it air out all day. Hopefully, the new mattress smell would fade before she had to go to bed tonight. There was indeed a large but unlabeled moving truck parked out front and a man with a clipboard standing by the door.</p><p>"Sign here ma'am," the nice round man asked while chewing gum. He had small sweat beads on his forehead. Despite being a cloudy day, the air felt muggy.</p><p>Olivia complied, surprised the mattress store was so fast. She had bought the bed and mattress just the afternoon before. Two other men hopped out of another truck and opened the container.</p><p>"You want 'em according to the box labels, or everything in the living room?" He asked. The mattress delivery guy was a loud chewer.</p><p>She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by labels. "I'm just, ah, expecting a bed and mattress?"</p><p>"Yeah, there're some mattresses in there. Plus the rest of your stuff."</p><p>Before she could ask what stuff he was referring to, she watched the moving guys take a velvet navy blue couch out of the back of the moving truck. She recognized the couch instantly, from her previous penthouse apartment - the one Queen had put her in, and Eric had bought. Soon she watched the moving guys haul all the furniture, appliances included, from what was now Eric's apartment - and into her house. She was never so thankful for pitching Eric the reward system. Or at least she hoped that's what this was. She loved the decor of that place. The moving guys even took away her old appliances and installed the new ones.</p><p>Her little house was going to look sophisticated and utterly chic, much more than she had ever planned for it. Olivia had to actively keep herself from doing a happy dance in front of the movers. She now realized she owned <em>furniture </em>too. Olivia felt awfully like an adult. But it was… Nice too? It was weird. With the delivery receipt, there was a little note in an envelope which she instantly recognized as Northman's stationery.</p><p>"Of course." She muttered anxiously to herself.</p><p>Reward or not, nothing from Eric Northman was <em>free</em>. The note said: <em>the King mattress goes in my room.</em></p><p>Olivia flipped the little card which was blank on the other side, and then back again. His room? All her bedrooms had windows. No space here was light-tight enough for a vampire.</p><p>What the hell?</p><p>Whatever joke this was, she didn't get the punchline. Olivia tipped the movers as they finished an hour later and she started arranging the furniture around the house. Most of it suited the house well. The 6 person dining table was way too large for the small kitchen nook, so she moved it into a bedroom, the one she was going to use as her office. She had only ever used the table for work anyway, and she could eat on a bar stool off her kitchen peninsula.</p><p>Soon she found a place for almost everything. To save the money, she cancelled the bed and mattress she had ordered over the phone. Olivia made note of where she was going to hang all the abstract artwork, and where she was going to mount the TV.</p><p>But indeed, the movers had brought an extra mattress, a King size one that did not belong to her old apartment (her old bed went into her own bedroom). It was one of those that came rolled up in a box; like in the subway ads. She put it against the wall in the hallway until she had a minute to ask Eric about this white elephant gift.</p><p>Now for the fun part: installing her pole in the spare bedroom. It was a bit of a pain in the ass to install it by yourself because you had to hold it dead straight while you tighten the tension screws, but she managed after a lot of swearing and sweating.</p><p>Olivia was exhausted and hungry, and she wasn't even done. She still had to run to Walmart, and buy groceries, and deal with the internet and cable people. How do regular people do this? She had gotten too used to living in the luxuries given by the Louisiana Queen. But for whatever reason, having accomplished all of this on her own (sort of) felt really good. Like, <em>really </em>good.</p><p>The front doorbell rang once again, and Olivia opened up the door only to find a stranger on her doorstep holding a basket of biscuits. She had big blonde permed hair and was dressed in a pink floral shirt and a pink tank top underneath, fake pears and white capris. She was a short and stout woman, and about as wide as she was tall.</p><p>"Hello there sugar, I'm Maxine Fortenberry your next-door neighbor! My Goodness, you're a pretty young thang-"</p><p>"Oh, thank you," the smell of this lady's biscuits hit her like a million deliciously buttery bricks. "I'm Olivia, I'm-"</p><p>"You new in town, hun? Couldn't help but notice the nice car you got in your driveway. It got a New Orleans license plate-"</p><p>"Ahm, no," Olivia scanned the street and felt the urge to slap herself on the forehead. Her BMW did not match her neighborhood's income level, not by a long shot. People here drove pickup trucks and Camrys, making her luxury german sedan stick out like a sore thumb. "My car actually got rear-ended a week ago, and this is the insurance rental. Would you like to come in Mrs. Fortenbery?"</p><p>"Oh, you poor soul!" She handed her the warm basket of biscuits, and Olivia instantly wished she could dive right into it; she was so hungry. "You got sum lucky driving a BMW around in the meantime!"</p><p>"Too fancy for me," she chuckled, forcing her best humble smile. She was crying inside at the thought of getting rid of the last bit of luxury she had. It's like this place was sucking every bit of joy she had. "I'm scared to death I'll put a dent in it."</p><p>She followed Maxine's eyes around the house as she curiously studied her fancy furniture. "Well by Jesus your home is real nice! It looks straight outta magazine!"</p><p>Liv dove right into the nice woman's mind. She was green with envy and thought Olivia had either come from old money or was a politician's mistress due to the lack of a wedding ring on her finger. How else would someone explain someone like her having nice things like this, without a man? Maybe she was just one of those yuppies who took her ring off to not scratch it while doing housework. It was probably a huge rock.</p><p>Turns out, Maxine Fortenberry wasn't nice at all.</p><p>"Where are ya from dear, and where's your husband?"</p><p>Olivia had done this so often she became quite good at improv. "I'm from Maine, and he's overseas, still deployed."</p><p>"Ah, a military wife! Barksdale Airforce?"</p><p>It's imperative to let other's fill in the blanks for you. Makes your backstory more believable and your image more likeable. "Yes! We are being relocated from Virginia, so I moved first to get us settled before his return. Adjusting back home is stressful enough, ya know?" She was already dreading having to memorize all the details of this elaborate story.</p><p>But according to Maxine Fortenberry, she wasn't going to bug her for much longer. She was hoping Olivia was single and would go out with her son Hoyt, even though Olivia looked to be a bit out of her son's league. Oof, she had to get this woman gone.</p><p>"I'd offer you some tea Mrs. Fortenberry, but I just got my fridge and haven't done any groceries yet. I don't even have a single glass to offer you water-"</p><p>Luckily her neighbour got the hint that Olivia wanted her gone and she was out in a couple of minutes. She promised to return her biscuit dish full of her famous cookies, and her neighbour seemed cheerful on the outside but doubtful on the inside - Olivia was just too skinny of a woman to bake well. Maxine was right too, Liv couldn't bake or cook for shit. But this was the south and manners were important for the people here. She was going to have to video call her aunt Suzie and get her to walk through the baking of some cookies. Her aunt would love every minute of it.</p><p>It was dark when Olivia returned from Walmart. She had takeout before coming home and had to make two trips from the car with the amount of stuff she got. She decided to park her car inside the garage which was in the very back corner of her backyard, in hopes it wouldn't attract much more attention from the neighbours. As soon as she shut the garage door (it sadly was manual) and turned around, a familiar tall figure was waiting for her. There were no lights in the backyard (she should probably get a safety light installed) but all the lights from the house were on, bathing the two in a soft yellow glow.</p><p>"Eric," she nodded. The vampire was in his regular dark wash jeans and black V-neck t-shirt with a brass chain necklace tucked in. His muscular arms and shoulders were fully exposed. Hot as always.</p><p>"How's settling into your new home?" His voice was cold, smooth and calm.</p><p>"As it turns out, having a house is a money pit. I spent so much money into this goddamn place today I'm pretty sure I'll have to push back retirement."</p><p>"You didn't have to do it, you know? You could have stayed in that apartment. It's not like I was going to charge you rent or anything,"</p><p>She remembered the feeling of finding Eric seated at the head of the dining room in the dark, the fridge light revealing his beautiful face. His pale blue eyes watching her like prey. Eric Northman invaded her routine, her veins, her dreams. Reclaiming her house was not to take back her pride, but her sanity. Perhaps her control. Much of what keeps Olivia in control is the fact that she can keep vampires out of her house, no matter how strong or old they were.</p><p>"Yeah, no thanks. What do you want Mr. Northman?" Olivia crossed her arms.</p><p>They both stood in her small backyard, which she realized she had no furniture for. It would remain empty and sad looking, she decided, pushing away the idea that it would be nice to read on the patio in the summer on a lounge chair. Maybe tan her legs a bit.</p><p>"An invitation inside, of course."</p><p>Olivia let out a loud short laugh and walked past him, towards the back door into the kitchen. The nerve, the gall, the audacity-</p><p>"Need I remind you that you are my responsibility, Olivia? People can use you against me, they know I <em>have</em> to protect you-"</p><p>"Well, I didn't <em>ask</em> to be your burden, Eric!" She slightly raised her voice. She could see him hesitating on an answer, but all he managed to give her was silence. "Staying out of trouble is part of my job. So either you aren't telling me something, or you don't think I am competent. So I'm going to ask again, what do you want?"</p><p>By the look on his face, he did not care for her tone. "A little gratitude to start would be nice," he nodded to her living room through the glass sliding door. It sure did look nice in there.</p><p>She took a full breath, trying to let go of all the anger he automatically caused whenever he was near. "Thanks for all the furniture, Mr. Northman. I really appreciate it."</p><p>Olivia meant it too, the place looked great and he had saved her a ton of money. Do you even know how much it costs to furnish a house when a damn couch cushion costs 50 bucks?</p><p>"You dealt with the Queen this week," he said plainly.</p><p>Indeed she did. She spent a whole day bouncing money around the world twice, making it untraceable before the Queen received it. Now it was up to her new accountant to make it look legit. It was risky, but Eric was protected. Olivia was starting to realize Eric Northman didn't do <em>thank-yous</em> like normal people. This was the close as he managed to get. Like the time he asked to stay for Godric's party. God, he was so different from his Maker.</p><p>"What's with the extra mattress they brought?"</p><p>"Didn't you get the note?"</p><p>So it wasn't a joke. "A bit bold of you to assume I'd give a whole spare bedroom to <em>you</em>. Plus they aren't suitable for vampires, they have pretty large windows-"</p><p>Eric slowly approached her by her door and looked down on her with a smirk only he could do. "Invite me in and I'll show you."</p><p>Olivia was just <em>too </em>intrigued by the mystery not to find out where Eric's supposed secret room was. "I'm rescinding your invitation right after."</p><p>"Only if you want to," his voice sent shivers up and down her spine.</p><p>She hesitated. Things with him always had a catch. She made a living by seeing the catch a mile away. But when it came to him, for whatever reason, she couldn't. "Would you like to come in Mr. Northman?"</p><p>The two entered the small kitchen, and she let Eric lead. He walked slowly but purposefully as if he had been here before and was familiar with the layout of the place. Was he? Had he been in this house before? He stopped right in front of her bedroom.</p><p>"Ha-ha, very funny," she squinted and crossed her arms.</p><p>Calmly he put his hands on her arms and moved her a step into the bedroom and out of the hallway. "What-"</p><p>She watched him reach up high in the hallway ceiling, into a little door - the attic door. Just last week Liv had watched the home inspector open the scuttle and pull out the raggedy aluminum attic ladder and crawl in it with his flashlight and clipboard. This door now was new - it was bigger and had a special flush finish that imitated the ceiling. Other than the small latch and the door outline you could barely notice it. Eric opened the door and pulled a much studier and quieter ladder. He picked up the mattress box down the hallway and carried it up the attic without much effort.</p><p>Olivia did not say a word and quietly followed the vampire. She stood in the ladder and peaked her head into the ceiling space - she'd never been up here but from the little she saw from the inspector's visit her attic had changed <em>a lot</em>. This level was more of a crawl space, Eric himself couldn't stand up. He was crouched on the floor unboxing the large mattress using a little pocket knife. The slanted walls had been finished, nice sconces had been added, flooring had been put down and it was actually nice. It was clean and spotless, just a bit stuffy from the heat.</p><p>"You paid my contractors to turn my attic into a secret light-tight room?"</p><p>"You mean <em>my </em>contractors? Yes. It's always good to have backup sleeping spaces. It's off the books too, no one knows it's here."</p><p>She had no words to express the blatant invasion of privacy and boundaries and- this was <em>her house!</em> That <em>she</em> bought and paid for! And he had the gumption of building himself a room?! As if her house was just an extension of his property?! "You are so <em>unbelievably-"</em></p><p>"You should take it as a compliment. My previous number one backup was Ginger's house." He said it with a bad taste in his mouth.</p><p>"A compliment?! You are <em>never</em> sleeping here!"</p><p>Eric turned off the attic lights and made his way down from the attic, making Olivia step out too. He pushed the ladder up and closed the attic door gently. "Not until you get me linens, obviously. I like high-thread Egyptian cotton or pure satin, and firm pillows. Let me know if you want to christen the bed too-"</p><p>"I rescind your <em>goddamn</em> invitation! Get out!"</p><p>Eric slid out of her house and out the back kitchen door where he came from. But his expression remained unchanged - a soft smirk, showing he was quite satisfied with himself. She closed the kitchen door and let the screen door slam shut. She was furious as she glared at him through the door's window. Liv didn't know how else to describe his eyes - they were sharp; cut right through her.</p><p>"I'm never getting rid of you, am I?"</p><p>"Good night Olivia," he said with a tiny pleased smile on his lips. Then he melted right into the dark.</p><hr/><p>The next day Olivia woke up normally in her own bed. No dreams, just sleep. She took a deep breath, relieved that the effects of Eric Northman's blood were finally wearing off.</p><p>However, her day went downhill from there pretty quickly. She managed not only to overcook her eggs but also burn her toast. Liv should have just gone out or eaten cereal. Trying to cook was absolutely pointless - she was so bad at it, it was embarrassing. The rest of her day wasn't much different. Everything sucked but worked out in the end. She managed to get internet after spending 3 hours on the phone with fucking Comcast. It was like pulling teeth.</p><p>She finally managed to do some work and get her paperwork in order (despite her printer jamming up) before her 3 PM appointment with Portia Bellefleur. She had to upgrade some liability insurance for Fangtasia and Olivia needed to pick up some documents from her office on the two restaurants they had acquired.</p><p>All of Eric's businesses were closed for renovations for the next 3 weeks. It was major embezzlement, fraud and laundry time for her and she wanted to check off this last meeting with Portia off the list. Even if it was just to say that <em>something</em> had gone right today. Eric had brought in an exorbitant amount of drug money to be washed (from God knows where) and Olivia's mind had to be focused on the task at hand, and not on handling odds and ends with their lawyer.</p><p>The office was downtown but quaint, she had been here before many times. The receptionist was new but was a familiar face. It was Debbie Pelt.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>"Do you have an appointment Miss...?" Debbie asked with a different tone than she heard before. She wasn't pissed off or yelling, for once.</p><p>"I do, 3 PM with Portia Bellefleur?"</p><p>"Miss… Carson?" Debbie looked up again with a small smile, blank-ish eyes.</p><p>Olivia nodded and looked into Debbie's mind as she dialled Portia on the desk's phone. It was still cloudy, but calm. Not murky red like last time. The werewolf had a good impression of Olivia and liked her purse a lot.</p><p>Debbie Pelt had no memory of Olivia's face at all. She looked into the woman's head again - it had been meddled with. Pamela must have erased her memory, made Debbie forget Olivia's face. Why?</p><p>"Go right in," her voice was peppy and gentle. It was unsettling. "Third door on the right. Would you like some tea, coffee or water?"</p><p>"Coffee would be nice, thank you."</p><p>Olivia walked away and into Portia's office. She was a <em>loud</em> broadcaster. Behind her laptop screen, she was browsing wedding dresses and was conflicted on what silhouette to get. She wanted to look a bit sexy but was afraid to look cheap or worse, offend her grandmother. Liv glazed at Portia's hand and indeed, a brand new small diamond ring sat on her ring finger. The one Olivia had gotten from Jaimie was way bigger, but that relationship had gone down the shitter so diamond size didn't really matter, did it?</p><p>"Congratulations are in order, I see?"</p><p>"Oh, thank you! It happened just this past weekend, I was totally surprised," Portia was all giddy.</p><p>The lawyer pointed to a picture frame of herself and the presumed groom. Glenn, as she told her, was an accountant too. He was nerdy-looking, short hair-going-bald, with thick glasses and wore a plaid shirt buttoned all the way. Liv wanted to think they made a cute couple, but judging from the photo alone, she thought Portia could do better.</p><p>"You must be so happy!" Olivia smiled big, trying to be nice. Seeing others getting engaged always brought bittersweet memories. "And you are planning it already?"</p><p>Portia closed her laptop and started going through the files on her desk, as she knew what Olivia was here for. "I am! I know it sounds stupid but I'm totally one of those girls who dreamed of her wedding day since she was little," <em>dumb dream but ok. </em>"It's going to be at my grandmother's Estate out in Bon Temps at the end of the summer."</p><p>"Wow, so in like, 2 months?" Olivia raised her eyebrows. She had only <em>half</em> planned a wedding, and could not imagine having it done in 2 months. Suddenly Portia Bellefleur just made sense to her. She took the old-fashioned approach to marriage, like a good southern woman. Even saved herself for her wedding day. This was really important to her. Olivia had a hard time accepting views like that, she thought it was <em>so</em> anti-feminist. But at the end of the day, feminism was being the choice of being true to yourself no matter what that is. To Portia, being a picture-perfect virginal bride was her idea of what she wanted to be. Olivia just hoped it was her choice and not the societal pressures of the south brainwashing her.</p><p>Debbie Pelt quietly entered and gave Olivia her coffee and brought Portia green tea and multivitamins that came in a bottle labelled <em>bridal glow.</em></p><p>"I know it sounds crazy, but I really want it to be perfect." <em>Plus I don't think Glenn could wait any longer to have sex than he already has,</em> she thought as she swallowed her pills.</p><p>Olivia became really good at controlling her face, and even this instance was testing her. She just sipped her coffee, hoping the mug would conceal her disgust. Out of all the reasons to get married, this was probably the worst one. This woman was in for a world of misery. Portia gave her the rundown of all the documents Olivia was for in a very quick and professional manner. The lawyer delivered everything that was asked of her after all. Despite their little argument over that transfer title, Olivia was actually really impressed Portia and the quality of her work. She left no stone unturned and did all the due diligence Olivia herself would have done. It was even more impressive especially considering she was planning a whole wedding in 60 days on top of it all.</p><p>They shook hands and Olivia was about to leave when she had an idea. She reached inside her bag for her car keys and took them out of the keyring.</p><p>"Hey Portia," she tossed the car keys to the lawyer and she caught it with a confused look on her face. "You did some outstanding work for me and my client. Consider it a bonus."</p><p>She looked at the logo on the key and her eyes went wide. "Are- Is this real? Are you sure?"</p><p>"That's what I told you it would happen when you delivered the kind of service I asked of you,"</p><p>Portia got up from her office chair and looked out of her office window. She pointed the key fob at the cars in the parking lot and saw the shiny BMW's light flash. "Glenn is going to <em>freak</em> out when he sees this!" She had a smile from ear to ear.</p><p>This had all to do with rewarding good work, and giving credit where credit was due. It totally wasn't about Olivia refocusing Portia's happiness from her upcoming nuptials to her career, where Olivia thought it ought to be. No, it wasn't that <em>at</em><em> all-</em></p><p>"Enjoy it," Olivia said, but Portia was in another world of her own, imagining herself pulling this car into her driveway. She felt like a real successful lawyer, a force to be reckoned with, a real woman, a BMW was just the icing on the cake. <em>Yes, this is what real happiness should be</em>.</p><p>But then the feeling almost instantly withered at the thought that Glenn, her fiance who only drove a Honda Civic, would feel jealous or emasculated. No, he wouldn't be happy at all.</p><p>Portia's sadness stirred a mix of pity and anger in Olivia. She had seen that movie before, with Jamie who acted in a similar way the <em>one</em> time Olivia got ahead. She would never accept a man <em>that</em> small who would shame his wife-to-be for being successful. Not then, not now, not ever. And if she had to spend the rest of her days alone, then so fucking be it.</p><p>Glenn was a fucking CPA, he could easily find a job that paid well enough for him to drive a BMW too for fuck's sake. What happened to 'don't ever let a man's mediocrity snuff out your own happiness'? Guess they don't teach girls that in the south. That's when Olivia decided she had heard enough of the lawyer's thoughts and left Portia's office before slapping some uncalled-for sense into the woman.</p><p>She headed to the reception and asked Debbie Pelt for the number of a reliable cab company, as she would need one until she got herself a new car. It was really strange for Debbie not to have any memory of Olivia whatsoever. She had <em>bailed </em>her out of jail. Liv tried to push away the bitter and sad feeling of saying goodbye to her BMW. Her cousin Tommy, who was a sales manager at an Audi dealership in Newark and who would probably marry an Audi if it was legal, would forever roast her for whatever piece of shit car she was about to purchase. And part of her sadly agreed with him. Good Lord, this was <em>so</em> not the life she signed for when she agreed to work for vampires.</p><p>But hey, at least <em>one</em> thing went smooth today.</p><p>"Gotta take the wins where you can," she muttered to herself while riding down the elevator to the main floor where a cab was waiting outside.</p><p>However little did Olivia know that she had just made the biggest mistake of her career. If only she had stayed in Portia's office 30 seconds longer Olivia would have found out the reason why Glenn would feel emasculated, and why he only drove a Honda Civic. Yes, the lawyer's fiance was a small insecure man who was self-conscious that his bride made more money than him. But he did so because he was a public servant.</p><p>He did so, because Glenn Costa was a forensic accountant who worked for the DEA.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooohh no.</p><p>Things are about to get SPICY y'all, so buckle UP</p><p>xoxox</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 17: Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin</strong>
</p><p>"What the fuck are you wearing?" Pam's eyes scanned her head to toe the second she stepped into Fangtasia. The door hadn't even closed behind Olivia yet and the vampire's opinion of her outfit was formed. Judging by how the blonde vampire dressed, Liv wasn't sure if she should take it as a compliment or not. She was wearing an emerald silk button-up shirt tucked into an ivory tulle skirt, pink heels and a matching pink bag.</p><p>"I was aiming for Sex in the City,"</p><p>"Sure, if that city is Albuquerque."</p><p>Wow, okay, now that was just <em>plain</em> hurtful. Olivia was still on a credit card freeze while she was financially recovering from her house purchases, so all the clothes she acquired were from big department store clearance racks. She actually thought this outfit was kind of cute, but it was nothing like anything she wore before. She always stuck to neutrals, but all she could find here were the bright colored items that no one in Shreveport, Louisiana wanted. It was the leftovers of the leftovers.</p><p>"You can always give me my clothes back," <em>you cunt.</em></p><p>Olivia approached Pam who was seated on a brand new lounging couch. In fact, most of the furniture had changed. The booths that lined the walls were gone now, but the renovations weren't done yet. VIP rooms and a whole mezzanine for Eric's new throne still had to go up.</p><p>"Shit I might. I feel embarrassed for you."</p><p>Olivia stopped right next to Pam, whose 8 feet long legs were crossed high at the knees. She wore another vintage Chanel dress suit, in hot pink tweed, matching lipstick and nude Christian Louboutins. "You have feelings? Since when?"</p><p>"You're right," the vampire smirked with her southern drawl, which was as thick as the locals. It made her wonder if she was from here all along. "Take a seat, they are getting ready in the new change room."</p><p>She meant the new dancers. Pam had requested that Olivia be present at the call-back auditions for whatever reason. Olivia sat 3 feet away from the vampire, knees together and purse on her lap feeling entirely out of place. Who made her an expert on strippers, she didn't know.</p><p>"Eric has gone to-"</p><p>"I didn't ask," Olivia interrupted. She was actually a bit happy he wasn't here. She was still pretty pissed at him for making himself a room in her house. "Why am I here again? I've never even been to a strip club,"</p><p>"Well, you claim to have the talent of spotting cops from a mile away. Thought it would be useful to get your seal of approval."</p><p>"What- you think one of them is a narc?"</p><p>"Or something! I don't know!"</p><p>"Pamela, where the fuck would a stripper hide a wire?"</p><p>"Up her-"</p><p>Thankfully, the first lady entered the stage. She was a vampire, about 6 feet tall in black Pleaser boots. She wore a silver bikini which showed her beautiful dark olive skin and she had thick curly hair that framed her stunning face and light hazel eyes.</p><p>"That's Felicia, the best of the bunch. An import from Baton Rouge," Pam told her, in a sultry whisper.</p><p>Olivia could by the <em>everything</em> that Pamela and Felicia had had sex. She didn't blame either party. Music started playing and she moved smoothly around the stage, on and around the pole. She had good flow, definitely on the classier side. Olivia wouldn't be much help judging the loyalty of <em>vampires</em>, she could only hope some of the dancers were human. Then Pam called out the next dancer and Felicia started to make her way off the stage.</p><p>"Hold on a minute, that's it?" Olivia interrupted.</p><p>Pamela killed the music and suddenly you could hear a pin drop in the bar. "You got a problem, sugar?" She asked, irritated.</p><p>Liv felt the heat on her face. "That was dancing, not <em>pole</em> dancing. Isn't that like - a big part of a strip club experience?" Pam looked at her expressionless but she could tell she was deeply annoyed. Or maybe that was just her face. Olivia turned her attention back to the stage "Felicia, can you invert?"</p><p>The vampire stood awkwardly on stage and kept looking back and forth between Olivia and Pamela, but gave no answer.</p><p>"Can you at least climb?" Olivia asked, but all she got was a cold stare from the vampire.</p><p>"Answer her," Pam demanded.</p><p>After a moment the vampire spoke. "Climb what?"</p><p>"Climb the pole?" Olivia clarified but was a bit horrified that she had to. That was like, lesson 2 in pole dancing after your basic spins. And with her vampire strength, it should have been a given. Liv spun on the couch, facing Pamela. "Dare I ask about your audition process?"</p><p>Pamela's face softened into a devilish smile. "Well, since you asked-"</p><p>"Nevermind," Olivia let out a big sigh and got up. "I suggest you get them a coach or something. We need to sell the <em>actual</em> stripper experience if we are keeping the doors open."</p><p>She couldn't launder money with no legal tender to mix it with.</p><p>"I had someone in mind actually," Pam propped her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her head on the hand. The silence that followed her ogling flirtatious eyes made Olivia's heart rate spike.</p><p>"Oh <em>hell</em> no. I am not teaching them!"</p><p>"Why not? I know you got one of these in your house," she nodded at the poles on the stage. "Are you not any good?"</p><p>"Pamela, what is it that you think I do all day?"</p><p>"I generally try not to think of you. Truly. You get on my fuckin' nerves."</p><p>The feeling was mutual. Olivia had to bite her tongue in order not to say what was <em>really</em> on her mind. "Where's the changing room?"</p><p>"Old storage room. First door on the left, in the back."</p><p>Olivia stormed out of the main floor and headed past the bar. She could hear the girls talking over trap music coming from a shitty quality speaker, probably someone's cheap phone. When Liv popped in by the door, she found 4 other women putting makeup and tiny clothes on, and zuhzing their hair with glitter hair spray. Their heads turned for a moment before continuing their getting ready process.</p><p>"You dancin' too girl?" A skinny and pale girl with short blond wavy hair asked.</p><p>"Nah, she looks too fancy. Unless she's the <em>expensive</em> kinda girl. VIP experience!" Another joked and they all laughed.</p><p>Turns out Felicia was the only vampire dancer, the other 4 were alive. In the locker room, the blonde-haired girl was a werewolf, her mind was cloudy just like Debbie Pelt's. The other three were plain human and were <em>all</em> loud broadcasters. Clear as FM radio in the city. Mind check on 4 out 5 girls was… Pretty good odds.</p><p>"Which one of you is a fed?" Olivia asked plainly. Sometimes asking the direct question was the only way to get their minds to go where she wanted them.</p><p>The room then went real quiet, and suddenly no one was laughing, giggling or thinking Olivia looked like an expensive stripper (though she took it as a compliment). Liv tuned in each of the girls' minds. The one who assumed she was a VIP stripper - she actually recognized. Her name was Tara and she was previously a bartender at Merlotte's who got fired a week ago. Tara wasn't thrilled at becoming a dancer, but she had gone through just about every job in her hometown and gotten fired from it. In Shreveport, no one knew her, and people from Bon Temps would never set foot in a vampire bar, so she hoped to make just enough money to move to New Orleans for good.</p><p>The weregirl's name was Crystal. Her mind was difficult to read, but there were gaps amidst the clouds that let out incomplete thoughts. She wanted to make money and maybe meet some hot guys she wasn't related to because she was tired of having sex with her… Cousins? <em>Wait, what?!</em> There was a lot to unpack there, but let's just ditch the whole baggage.</p><p><em>Moving on to the next one - </em>Dawn was a gorgeous woman, slender with curves, wavy long brown hair and blue eyes. She was here for fame <em>and</em> money and she thought she was too pretty to die a waitress. Dawn wanted to be desired by vampires, maybe meet a rich and powerful one, fall in lust. Oh boy, Eric was going to <em>love </em>this one.</p><p>The last one was Aurora, who went by the name of Savannah. She had beautiful Olive skin and shorter brown wispy hair. She was using a fake ID to run away from an abusive ex whom she was terrified of. Not a lot of jobs didn't make you fill W-4, and she was just too scared to risk giving out her real name anywhere and be found. She was dead certain her ex was looking for her. Maybe being surrounded by vampires would give her protection too. Now that was a <em>smart</em> woman, but Olivia couldn't help but feel bad for her.</p><p>The girls still all glanced at each other, now theorizing who amongst them was an undercover cop. For Olivia's relief, no one had ulterior motives to be here.</p><p>Tara then asked, "How do I know <em>you </em>ain't a cop?"</p><p>"I'm Olivia Carson, Mr. Northman's accountant," none of the girls said anything. Crystal, the blonde, didn't even know what an accountant was. "I do the payroll?" They all nodded, studying her face, eager at the prospect of being paid. "Do any of you have pole dancing experience?"</p><p>"I did a class at a bachelorette party once last year," Dawn pipped in.</p><p>"I learned how to twerk from watchin' MTV! I was told I was quite good." Crystal cheered.</p><p><em>Told by whom? Your cousin?</em> Olivia had to bite her tongue again. None of this is what she had in mind when she pitched the idea of turning the vampire bar into a vampire strip club.</p><p>"Found any foxes in the coop?" Pam suddenly appeared beside her, hand on her hip.</p><p>"No, they are clear. But they are going to need help and <em>lots of it</em>. I suggest you hire a professional stripper too, pay her however much she asks and get her to teach them. Someone Russian, or eastern European, they dance well. Meanwhile, scale their tips according to skill. Whoever can do simple spins 12%; climb to the top 20%; invert 40%; do a shoulder mount 50%; jade split 60%... Yeah, that should work."</p><p>This would allow her to launder a lot right away if in the books they all made 75% from the start. Olivia surprised even herself sometimes.</p><p>"I don't know what <em>any</em> of that means. What the fuck a jade split?" Tara asked, already thinking this gig was already too complicated and way too much work.</p><p>Olivia rolled her eyes. What kind of stripper didn't know what a <em>jade split</em> was? And who the fuck assumed being a stripper was <em>easy?</em> "You'll see."</p><p>Pam agreed to it, mostly because she was bored of it all and wanted to go do something else. As Olivia was making her way out of Fangtasia, Pam's phone started ringing and the tall vampire scoffed at the screen.</p><p>"Fuckin' Ginger, I'm gonna start charging her per phone call," she snapped the phone open and answered angrily. "Hold, you bleach bucket. Olivia,"</p><p>Liv turned on her pink heels, her hand already resting on the front door's handle.</p><p>Pam stared at her across the empty bar, phone in hand. She had a different twinkle in her eye. The eye-fucking kind. "If you were a dancer here, what would I tip you?"</p><p>Olivia wanted to say with a whole lot of pride she would be making the full 60%. She had poled for about 4 years consistently and put a whole lot of sweat (and some tears) into it. Pole was by far the most challenging sport she had ever done - and she attended 10 years of ballet academy growing up. She had nothing but admiration for talented strippers and thought the girls upstairs. If they decided to stick to it, they were brave for attempting the journey up and around the pole.</p><p>Liv mustered a shy smile before stepping through the door. "Wouldn't you like to know?"</p><hr/><p>Olivia woke up with a loud ringing noise cutting through her house. It was the front doorbell again, someone was pressing it over and over again. She sat up, disoriented. It took her a moment for her to remember where she was. She lived <em>here</em> now, not at the Fairview Hotel.</p><p>It was still very much dark out, which meant something was wrong. In the distance, she could hear dogs barking in the back neighbor's yard, also startled by the noise. In a half-asleep stumble, Olivia made her way to the front of the house.</p><p>"Who is it?" She called out behind the door which had no peephole, feeling the cold fear only a stranger at the door in the middle of the night could make you feel.</p><p>"It's me," Eric's voice called out from outside.</p><p>But no muscle in her body relaxed when she unlocked and opened the door. Eric's eyes looked dark like the night. His skin was paler than usual, a silent rage emanated from him.</p><p>"Eric it's the middle of the-"</p><p>"Get in the car."</p><p>"Now?"</p><p>"<em>Now,"</em> she could see the glimmer of the tips of his fangs peaking between his perfect lips.</p><p>She felt the chill in her bones, turning her veins into glacier streams. He had done this once before, used their blond bond as of means of threat. Whenever it had happened, it was level 1 class A serious. Olivia went back to her room and put on the same clothes from earlier - bra, green button-up, white skirt, pink heels. They were still tossed on the armchair in the corner of her bedroom. Sometimes being messy had its upsides. She brushed her hair quickly and threw some mascara on, and grabbed her phone - it was 4 AM. What could be so important that had to be dealt with so close to dawn?</p><p>She stepped outside and locked the door, and the front gate too. Eric had gone back inside his red corvette parked directly in front of her house. Outside all she could hear were crickets, frogs and night critters along with the quiet hum of the Corvette's engine. The dogs had quieted down.</p><p>She still felt the biting cold in her skin, caused certainly by the vampire because the night was uncomfortably warm. Olivia wondered where he was going to take her. Last time it was Dallas, but at least he had politely asked first. Maybe with the ruse gone, intimidation was the only card he had left to play and it was <em>highly</em> effective. Maybe she should head back inside and demand some answers before she went anywhere with him. But then again, if he wanted to hurt her could have done so already in about 10 different ways.</p><p>She scurried down the sidewalk after scanning the houses on the street. The only lights on were the street lamps, but she wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Fortenberry was spying from behind her lacy living room curtain, formulating wild rumours and unleashing them to the entire town come morning.</p><p>Olivia entered the car and Eric hit the gas the second she closed the door. They were already a block away by the time she managed to put her seatbelt on. She watched the blond vampire blow through just about every stop sign and red light on his way downtown.</p><p>"It's Pam. She's been arrested." He said looking straight through the windshield, without looking at Olivia.</p><p>"By whom? Shreveport PD?"</p><p>"Worse," Eric sped up on a tight curve, making Olivia's body lean against the door. "The Magister has her now. Because I'm her Maker, Duprez was called to arrest her."</p><p>Duprez was the Sherriff of Area 2, in Alexandria. She knew vampires were highly organized and had Walt Disney Corporation levels of efficiency, but the speed at how the dominoes were falling here was a bit suspicious. She had seen Pamela earlier tonight at the call-back audition and left the bar at around 11 PM. So between then and now Pam had committed a crime, gotten caught, arrested by another Sheriff who lived 2.5 hours away? All in about 5 hours?</p><p>"What the hell did she do?"</p><p>"She allegedly killed another vampire at Ginger's party, with witnesses."</p><p>He may as well have told her Pamela went on a killing spree at a petting zoo. None of it made sense. "And you believe it? When is court?"</p><p>"Right now." A heavy silence filled the car once again. The more she looked at Eric the more she saw through his anger and understood what it really was - Eric Northman was afraid. He was scared, terrified, of losing Pam. She thought it was strange, perhaps a bit surreal, that in a time like this Eric would call on her, of all people. Liv wasn't sure how she was supposed to help. He knew the vampire laws better than her, and in a vampire court her telepathy was useless. She didn't like not being able to help him.</p><p>When they pulled into Fangtasia the parking lot it was absolutely jam-packed with cars. Every vampire in the Area had shown up to witness the Sheriff's progeny - whom Liv was sure probably wasn't entirely beloved by their people - on the stand. When Eric and Olivia entered the bar, the place was even fuller inside. Vampires of all kinds stood shoulder to shoulder, as most of the seating was gone.</p><p>Pamela was handcuffed to one of the stripper poles on the main stage, her wrists were burnt and bleeding as the shackles were made out of silver. She had a brave face on now, but her cheeks had red-pink streaks across her magnolia petal skin. Pam was wearing the same outfit as earlier - hot pink Chanel dress suit, but it had blood splattered all over it. Her hair looked a bit flat, she was missing her shoes. She looked so small without her heels. Seeing Pam like this made her stomach sunk.</p><p>An older man with sunken eyes and short grey hair in a pinstripe suit sat on Eric's throne right next to her. He held a cane straight up between his legs. On his fingers, he wore huge brass and gold rings. The whole ensemble made him look like an old gangster or a mafia boss from old movies. Olivia figured this was Jorge Alonso de San Diego, the Magister. He played the Supreme court judge in all vampire matters on the behalf of the Vampire Authority. Sophie-Anne told her stories about him. His judgment was absolute and he was rather cold and strict, even at vampire standards. He had even sentenced vampires from his own nest to death during the Spanish Inquisition.</p><p>Back when posing as a human was the norm for vampires, Jorge was one of Joseph Stalin's advisors and his biggest achievement was overseeing the accomplishment of the Road of Bones across the Soviet Union. It's a long stretch of highway that took 20 years to build, made up entirely from prisoner labour. Russian convicts were forced to work until they dropped dead, and when the night came, vampires who lived in the forest surrounding the construction crews came to feed on the dead. By morning, the living prisoners buried the remains right under the road they were paving, as they had already prepped the hard soil for paving and it took too long to dig graves for everyone. It was estimated the bodies of 1 million people lie buried under the road and it was regarded in vampire history as one of the greatest and most bountiful projects that fed hundreds of hungry vampires across Asia for two whole decades. To Olivia, it was a lesson, an important reminder of exactly who she was working for. Vampires will use you until drop dead, or the second you become irrelevant they will plow right over you without shedding a tear. Granted, some humans weren't all that different. Stalin was plenty inhuman on his own, no glamouring required.</p><p>Now Jorge Alonso was about to decide on whether or not Pamela committed murder and choose her punishment. The odds, Olivia figured, were not good.</p><p>Eric stood stiffly in a little clearing at the edge of the stage. He was by far the tallest man in the room, and even though he wasn't the accused, all eyes were on him. His authority naturally commanded the room wherever he was - up a throne or down with the herd.</p><p>Olivia stayed back amongst the crowd, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. There were rumbling whispers in the crowd. Along with Eric stood Duprez, the Area 2 Sheriff. He was a robust black man, who wore a sleek black leather jacket on top of an all-black outfit. He had a short buzzcut and a goatee, and a permanently angry look on his face. And to complete the circus, Ginger was there along with another Fangtasia bartender, Belinda. She had dyed long black hair and was a bit older, maybe in her 40s. Both were slobbering crying messes, whimpering in fear. Now, <em>this</em> she could work with.</p><p>The Magister knocked the floor between his feet with his metal-tipped cane. "Silence! Silence!" The crowd hushed. "Mr. Northman, are we ready to continue?"</p><p>"Yes, Magister."</p><p>"I hereby declare this special hearing in session!" He said loudly before lowering his voice to his regular tone. "Out of sheer respect to your good reputation, I shall let you start the proceedings with your defence," Jorge Alonso nodded to Eric.</p><p>"Thank you, Magister," Eric's voice wasn't as stern as usual. There was a lot on the line here. "As every vampire in this court can attest, Pamela is as a vampire as one can be, sir. She would never kill another one of our kind, not without my say-so. And I most certainly did not give my say-so."</p><p>"You put a lot of faith in your progeny, Mr. Northman," another vampire called, stepping out of the crowd. He was native American with a fringed suede jacket, with long smooth dark hair tied back in a low ponytail.</p><p>"I do, Hot Rain. Pamela Swynford De Beaufort is the very definition of grace and loyalty," Eric's voice became cold and flat, with threatening undertones. Whoever this vampire was, Eric Northman did not care for him.</p><p>"Okay, so am I supposed to what? Take your word for it? A vampire is dead, Sherriff, under <em>your</em> jurisdiction. Our numbers are low enough as it is, this cannot go unpunished! Where are the witnesses?"</p><p>Duprez made Ginger and Belinda stand up, and along came three other vampires. The face of one was familiar but she did not her name. The other two Olivia did not recognize. But then again, she avoided people's faces whenever she was in the club, so for all Liv knew, they could all be local.</p><p>"Mr. Northman, are they your underlings?" The Magister asked, referring to Belinda and Ginger. Eric nodded, and Jorge finally addressed them with a plain look of disgust on his face. He wasn't at all happy having humans in his courtroom. "Speak."</p><p>Ginger was shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane. She was wearing a short tube top and a micro denim skirt and tall red cowboy boots. With that much skin uncovered, Ginger was probably shaking from cold. She had black mascara and eyeliner smudges all over her eyes and cheekbones, making her look like a sad starved raccoon.</p><p>Olivia reached deep into her mind but only found what she always found in Ginger's head. Memories and thoughts spread out like chopped and unsorted puzzle pieces. She had been glamoured so much in her life, she was pretty sure Ginger had been permanently brain-damaged. It was impossible to tell if her mind had been meddled with since the murder, as everything in there was distorted almost beyond recognition.</p><p>Duprez looked deeply into Ginger's eyes and demanded her to tell the truth with a glamour.</p><p>"I was in the kitchen makin' cajun margaritas when there were loud n' angry voices in down the hall and when I went to look and saw Master Pamela was in the middle of a pile of goop, holdin' a stake in the bedroom."</p><p>Well, that didn't sound very good.</p><p>Duprez glamoured the truth out of Belinda too, but she was in the living room with a vampire fangs-deep in her neck at the time and she saw while nothing, she did hear the argument coming from the bedroom as well. We were batting 0-2 here.</p><p>The three vampires who came forward were also at Ginger's party. One was feeding on Belinda and the other three were in the living room dancing when Pam showed up. Colin, the vampire who had been murdered, insulted Pamela the second she arrived, as the two allegedly had a sour love affair in the past. The lost lovers then went into the bedroom to discuss private matters, and she instantly stabbed him through his heart the second Colin was cornered. They swore they saw it happen with their own eyes. Her standing in the carpeted room, right in front of Ginger's queen-sized coffin bed driving the stake right through his heart making his whole body explode like a water balloon. They claimed Colin and Pamela had a less than amicable breakup which made up a solid motive.</p><p>"It was not a fuckin' love affair! I was <em>his Maker!</em>" Pamela cried out, and the crowd gasped in horror. This wasn't a favorable or believable piece of information. "I released him a century ago. I was set up! Colin killed himself, y'all gotta believe me!" Her voice was breaking as she tried to hold her desperation tears back.</p><p>Knowing Pam, killing an old flame who wronged her was <em>exactly </em>something she would do. Eric looked at her expressionless. There was nothing he could do to help his one and only child. Olivia did not know what the punishment was for a vampire killing another vampire, but she was going to guess it was not a fun one. Especially if it was Jorge Alonso de San Diego as the judge, jury and executioner.</p><p>The crowd in the bar burst into loud whispers once again, some people laughed, others widely speculated, and Ginger broke out crying once again. She had a complicated relationship with her boss but felt overwhelmingly guilty by what happened. Ginger had no idea she had been dating her boss's ex and only progeny. Olivia had to try something, <em>anything</em>.</p><p>She stepped forward and kneeled between Ginger and Belinda, pretending to console them. Olivia knew Ginger did not care for her, not one bit. The barmaid was jealous of all the attention she got from Eric, but little did the poor woman know that if she could redirect it elsewhere, she would. In fact, she was actively trying to.</p><p>Ginger had snot and tears all over her hands and forearms, and Olivia wished she had a tissue for her, but alas, she didn't. The two waitresses seemed thankful they had another human there, even if Olivia couldn't help. She put her hands on Ginger's exposed knees, hoping they would be dry and snot-less. "Ginger, look at me," Liv whispered. "Tell me what happened again."</p><p>"I was in the kitchen, I swear," she shrieked before sobbing loudly again but didn't manage to get another comprehensible word out.</p><p>But Ginger's mind was replaying the party over and over again in a loop. More than words, Olivia could concentrate enough she could extract images from the woman's mind since touching heightened her abilities. She watched the woman's memory reel replay a couple of times like a short POV movie. It was out of order, but she understood most of it.</p><p>Colin, the deceased again vampire, was new in town and flirted with Ginger all last week before Fangtasia closed for renos and they have been hooking since last weekend. He wanted to meet new people, vampires and fangbangers alike. Ginger called up some vampires she knew, plus Belinda. She knew a hell lot more fangbangers but didn't want to share the attention. However she drank a bit too much, or maybe had taken drugs because this part was fuzzy (maybe she was glamoured to do so, it was hard to tell), she ended up calling Pamela in hopes she would bring Eric over too.</p><p>Ginger's house was small, in the Queensborough neighborhood of Shreveport. Despite the fancy name, it wasn't nice at all. In just a short glimpse of the inside of her home, she found a major flaw in the testimony of the three vampires. She mustered all her courage and spoke up. "Hold it!"</p><p>"Well, it's Mr. Northman's word against three vampires. I am sorry to inform you, but I have my answer and it is not a favourable one to your progeny-"</p><p>If Eric's heart could stop beating, it would have right then and there. They would run away, never return. Go to South America maybe, they were hostile against vampires, but they could pose as humans as they've done for over a century. Pamela would not be punished for something she hadn't done, not if he could help it. If she said she didn't do it, then she didn't. Despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.</p><p>But suddenly, Olivia stood up next to him. "Hold it!" She spoke loud and clear. "Pamela is right, she <em>is</em> being set up."</p><p>"I'm sorry, why is there another human here at all? Duprez, dispose of the intruder," the Magister ordered.</p><p>The Sheriff was about to grab her by the arm but was interrupted by Eric's hand, who grabbed his in the blink of an eye. "Touch her and see what happens," he growled.</p><p>"I have orders," Duprez hissed back showing his fangs.</p><p>"As do I," Eric said cooly.</p><p>Olivia made Ginger stand up by pulling the woman off the couch. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he had to buy her time to do her thing. "Ginger, where do you live?" She asked loudly.</p><p>"Uhm, Parsons street? Queensborough?"</p><p>"Right, and is it true you live in a shotgun house?"</p><p>Everyone was confused by Olivia's line of questioning, Eric included. "Uh, yes?"</p><p>"Ginger, why is it called a shotgun house?"</p><p>"Ah, I-" Ginger seemed confused and scattered and she wasn't sure how to explain it. <em>Goddammit, Ginger.</em> "Cause they're built cheap so you can shoot right through?"</p><p>Olivia's face flashed with disappointment for a second. Whatever answer she was looking for, Ginger did not deliver. "It's called a shotgun house because you can stand in the front door and shoot a shotgun straight down the entryway and out of the backdoor. There's a hallway running right through the house, front to back," Olivia explained. "Isn't that right, Ginger?"</p><p>"Ah, yes?" Ginger's eyes were running all around the room, noticing it was quiet again. Everyone was silent and hanging onto every word the two women were saying. "Yes!" She repeated firmly.</p><p>"Very good, Ginger. This kind of house is very popular in New Orleans, and all across Louisiana and the south. Every room of the house is its own little compartment, joined only by the hallway-"</p><p>The Magister, however, was less than impressed. "Where exactly is your little architectural lesson going?"</p><p>"I have a point, I swear."</p><p>"Go on," Jorge Alonso rolled his eyes. "Duprez, stand by."</p><p>The other Sherriff pulled his wrist away with a snarl but his glare did not leave Olivia's neck. It was clear to him that Duprez would have her the second he could.</p><p>"My question to the vampire witnesses is," Olivia turned to the three vampires. "If you were in the living room out front feeding on Belinda and partying, and Pamela and Colin were in the bedroom near the back, can you see through walls?"</p><p>There were small gasps and gulps in the room. The three of them didn't answer but hissed at her instead, hands making claws and were ready to jump on her bones. And they attempted to, but Eric shielded her before she could even flinch. As clawed hands and limbs came flying at him he broke them without hesitation. Bones snapped like twigs, followed by the screams coming from both Ginger and Belinda who witnessed all of it, and the vampires who laid splattered on the floor with broken legs dislocated shoulders and torn hands. It was pretty tame compared to what he was allowed to do, but considering this was a <em>murder</em> trial he chose to hold back.</p><p>Suddenly every vampire in the room had their fangs out and the room filled with growls and snarls. The tensions were high, and a fight was about to break out when the Magister stood up from Eric's seat.</p><p>"ORDER!" His voice thundered across the bar as he repeatedly banged his cane onto the stage floor. "I SAID ORDER IN MY COURT!" Jorge Alonso's fangs were also showing. "Sheriff, it doesn't help your case to attack fellow vampires in my presence!"</p><p>"I am duty-bound by the Louisiana Queen to protect this woman!" Eric snarled back, menacing the entire room. Olivia took a tiny sharp breath, her eyes not leaving him. She didn't want him to reveal their contract. He could hear her voice clear in his mind saying the word <em>liability</em>.</p><p>There were confused looks in the crowd, the Magister included. He leaned forward and glared at Olivia as if she were suddenly made out of diamonds. "Olivia Carson?"</p><p>"In the flesh," she smiled politely as if her life did not hang in the balance.</p><p>"You know, that was the first edict of protection I wrote since Charles Manson. When the Louisiana Queen requested yours I thought we weren't even issuing those anymore," the Magister sat back down on the throne as whispers grew hungry in the room and Eric could hear the stares in the room, their eyes were somehow <em>loud</em>.</p><p><em>Well.</em> If the Area 5 vampires didn't know about her protection contract then, everyone certainly knew <em>now.</em> He looked deeply at her eyes, but her face was more than he could bear looking at. She resented him for making himself vulnerable in a time he should only be worried about his progeny. He didn't know if she was upset because this complicated their life, or because she actually cared about him. But then again, why would she care about him?</p><p>"Where were we?" Jorge Alonso asked the court, making the room silent again.</p><p>"Vampires seeing through walls," Olivia had a tiny cheeky smile when she said it.</p><p>The three vampires who tried to attack her on the floor setting their broken arm and leg bones straight with cries of pain. He really folded them like paper in just a few seconds. May it serve as a warning to may happen to you if you cross Eric Northman, his progeny or his accountant.</p><p>"Is there anyone in this court who has been in the crime scene who can confirm or deny Miss Carson's evidence?" he looked at the crowd.</p><p>The vampires who came to be spectators at this court, suddenly all became witnesses in the crime. He knew damn Ginger had slept with half of them, and it was time for them to pony the fuck up. Eric turned around to face the crowd, and when he did, about a dozen vampires had stepped forward, agreeing that Olivia's evidence was the truth - you could not see into the bedroom from the living room. He was annoyed and disappointed no one had stepped forward before and that they rather see Pamela punished for something she didn't do over being honorable. He knew it was vampire etiquette not to get involved with Magister matters if you can in any way, shape or form, but he was still disappointed by his constituents' lack of honor.</p><p>"My-my room is the back of the house, judge," Ginger spoke again. "I was drunk makin' margaritas but I was still half keepin' an eye on Belinda from the kitchen across the hall," Ginger spoke without weeping for the first time in the evening. "Come to think of it, it's the only two rooms that face each other."</p><p>The matter was settled.</p><p>Jorge Alonso rolled his eyes, with a big sigh. "You three, in case you were unaware, do you know what I hate more than vampires who waste my precious court time? It's liars. On the crimes of perjury, I sentence you to the same fate I would have otherwise given Miss Swynford De Beaufort. Six months in the underwater box. Duprez, Northman, carry on."</p><p>Eric rushed to the stage and uncuffed Pam without a word, while Chow, Duprez and another Area 5 vampire named Gerald handcuffed the liars who hissed in protest. Pam was shaky as she stood beside him, holding his hand. Her hands never felt so small. He gently guided her down the stairs, as if Pamela were made of glass. For a moment back there, she was about to shatter.</p><p>"I call upon Pamela to recount what really happened to Colin, and I request that it may be regarded as the truth, and the final truth of the final events," Eric soared from the bottom of the stage, still holding onto Pam's hand as she slowly walked down the steps. He didn't want any more inquiries made on this matter.</p><p>"Go on, Miss Swynford de Beaufort," the Magister nodded from the throne. "I too would like to know,"</p><p>Pamela cleared her throat, still standing on the last step down the stage. When she spoke, it was as clear as her voice had always been. Strong and unwavering. "Ginger was drunk off her tits and called me to her house to party with vampires from Arkansas who had moved here a week ago. I knew it was trouble from the second she told me 'cause no vampire had declared himself to Sheriff Northman in the past week,"</p><p>"When I entered the house, Colin was there practically waitin' to pick a fight with me the second I stepped into the little plywood shack Ginger lives in. And to make matters crystal clear to all you fuckin' dirty sewer rats, I don't fuckin' <em>date,</em> I don't do <em>boyfriends </em>or <em>girlfriends</em>. What am I? Human? For fuck's sake, are you fuckin' kiddin' me? I have <em>goddamn</em> standards people!"</p><p><em>Now that was the Pamela he raised.</em> "When I followed that dirty little British farmboy further back into the house, he killed himself right in front of me, leaving me alone in a room with goop all over my vintage and original Chanel jacket which was the <em>real</em> crime of this evenin', mind y'all."</p><p>"Do you seriously expect us to believe he true deathed himself? To what? Punish you?" Duprez asked, unsure if he was following the story.</p><p>And he had a point if you didn't know what they knew. Her account of Colin's death made as much sense as Santa or the Easter Bunny. With a story like that, it's no fucking wonder Pamela got arrested. Who would believe her?</p><p>"What can I say? He never got over bein' released, and wanted me to know it." Pamela looked at Eric with an expressionless look on her face. There was more to the story that she wasn't telling but he knew what dots to connect here. Colin came from Arkansas, and guess what other mighty guest from Arkansas stood in the room with them? Hot Rain. And there were no such things as coincidences.</p><p><em>A progeny for a progeny</em> was a very old but very common form of revenge in the vampire world. Hot Rain must have paid or blackmailed Colin to kill himself in order to incriminate Pamela. If Eric's progeny were found guilty of murder, she could very well be killed right in front of his eyes. He would feel the pain as Hot Rain felt it. The justice system that <em>he</em> served for and protected him all these years would be the one to take away his most prized possession, his only childe. Plus, it would have a ripple effect. His inability of keeping his own child in line would severely damage his own authority, leaving him vulnerable to enemies - probably killed. But pointing out this little detail to the Magister would incriminate Eric himself with the murder of Longshadow, for stealing drug money from the Queen. Thank fucking Satan he had brought Olivia to this. He owed her Pam's life, he knew that much.</p><p>"Very well then. Sheriffs, take them away. It's getting a bit too close to dawn for my comfort, so I shall retire to my chambers. The court is dismissed."</p><p>The crowd dissipated quickly right after the Magister left the building and entered the back of his Lincoln, headed to the graveyard where the Magister owned a little mausoleum. Jorge Alonso de San Diego liked sleeping in graveyards, he was old school like that.</p><p>Soon most cars left the parking lot quietly and just minutes after only a few of them were left. Pamela, Chow, Olivia and himself. Duprez had taken the three vampires to be locked in coffins and sunk somewhere in a deep lake, probably the Toledo Bend Reservoir. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about Pamela suffering their fate. Locked, alone in a coffin submerged in water. Vampires didn't breathe, so they wouldn't drown. But they were <em>dead</em> and not only they would starve for six months, their bodies would swell from being in the water for so long. They wouldn't even look human when their coffins reopen in the winter.</p><p>This left Eric with maybe an hour left of darkness to figure out if they were still in danger or not.</p><p>Pamela was washing her face behind the bar while Chow was locking all exits. Olivia went to the office to switch VHS tapes on the security reel. Eric wanted a copy of them to study later.</p><p>"You okay?" Eric slowly approached his progeny, who still looked fairly upset. She was now rage scrubbing the blood off her jacket over the sink.</p><p>"What do you think? That was fuckin' humiliating," her bracelets dangled and shook on her wrists as she rubbed the tweed fabric with anger.</p><p>"They'll forget soon enough-"</p><p>"Not Hot Rain though. Colin told me he was gonna enjoy seeing you watching me fuckin' die in front of everybody before he exploded all over my fuckin' clothes," her lips quivered.</p><p>His theory was correct. Pamela could have died, or suffered six months of pure torture as someone's revenge. All because of Long Shadows' greed. But maybe it was Hot Rain all along - maybe Long Shadow was stealing money for his Maker. But for what?</p><p>Still, a large part of him was starting to blame the Queen. None of this would have happened if she didn't force them to sell drugs for her. If he had stolen clean money, he would have been publicly executed in the middle of the Queen's courtyard for all to see.</p><p>"You shouldn't have gone to Ginger's house," Eric told her simply. "You should have told me we had undeclared guests-"</p><p>"Colin is my problem. I should have ended his pathetic excuse of a life the day I got bored of him."</p><p>Eric tried to remember Colin, but for the life of him, he could not even put a face to the name. Pamela made this farmworker she met at a town pub into her progeny probably a year or two after becoming a vampire herself. "Why <em>did</em> you make him, by the way?"</p><p>Pam tossed her jacket in the garbage, giving up on the garment. "I thought it would be nice to own a man in his peak sexual prime. Turns out, they peak in neediness too."</p><p>All baby vampires are needy - they are babies. But now was not the time to remind her that <em>she</em> was particularly needy when she was young too.</p><p>"Your problems are my problems, Pamela. You should have told me," he repeated in a stern tone.</p><p>"I would have if you weren't so busy tryin' to fuck the new girl!" She spat.</p><p>And of course, because karma was cosmical, Olivia just reappeared from outback just in time to hear Pam's little rant. Now, what Pam said had been unfair. Eric had a meeting with the Magister all evening, reporting on the local Church's basement finds and the number of drainers he had 'corrected'.</p><p>"What you should have done was come up with a better cover-up story." Olivia mocked her as she approached the two vampires. "Abandoned progeny commits suicide as revenge 100 years later? <em>Come on</em>-"</p><p>Eric knew what was going to happen about half a second before it did. It was like his mind saw it all unfold slightly in the future, or maybe because his brain knew what happened when you put two stubborn mouthy women together, and one of them is Pamela. Things explode.</p><p>Pam jumped over the bar and lunged towards Olivia, fangs ready to pierce her neck, hands ready to break it. But Eric, of course, intervened. He intercepted her whole rage with his body by throwing his progeny against the support column, pinning her against it, holding her tightly with both hands. The two collided in a fit of hisses and anger, and resentment. He hated that he had to do this. She hated that he did.</p><p>"Don't make me break your bones too," Eric whispered trying to calm her down.</p><p>"I'm going to FUCKING-"</p><p>He tugged on her body and slammed it back against the column. "<em>Stop it!</em>"</p><p>"You can't be fuckin' serious-" Pam said it under her breath, still stunned from the hit, or maybe from the fact that he had turned against her.</p><p>"Get in the car, Olivia," Eric called out, not breaking eye contact with his progeny who looked both heartbroken and severely pissed off. Well, mostly pissed off. "Don't make me do this," he quietly threatened her, but in reality, he was begging her.</p><p>He only loosened his grip on Pam after he heard Chow unlock the front door for Olivia, who exited without a word. Pamela stood still, looking smaller and more broken than she had all night.</p><p>"You know that I have to protect her. Even from you," Eric looked away, focusing on the throne, his throne, who had been used by someone he entirely loathed. Someone who tried to hurt the person he loved the most. But the only person who had really hurt her tonight, he feared, was himself. "Go to ground in one of the coffins in the basement. Chow will stay the day with you."</p><p>"And where are you going?" She asked with tears on her eyes, one hand on the base of her throat, where his fingers had left a mark.</p><p>"To end this."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N.:</p><p>Really had you there in the first half huh? Thinking this was going to be another chill chapter lmao</p><p>Things are going to get messy and I'm LIVING for it</p><p>til next time angels</p><p>xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Cry Baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olivia stood by the Corvette as she watched Eric cross the dark back parking lot with the strut of a male model going down a catwalk. He looked at her and only her, with the intensity only Eric Northman could have when looking at you. Seeing him tackle Pamela just a minute ago was both amazing and terrifying and probably bought Olivia a world of hurt. She didn't know <em>what</em> it was about Pam that made her lose her cool so easily. Even though Olivia wasn't one to get attached to physical belongings (rule 9 and all), maybe the Grand Closet Heist had left some deeper wounds than she had realized.</p><p>As the Viking drew closer, she braced herself lifting her head high. She was no stranger to his anger, either as the witness or as the target. He stopped three feet away from her, which was odd. He usually closed the space between them, pushing her around with his statuesque body. Eric reached into his back pocket and took out something shiny and dark, then tossed it with a smooth underhand throw. Olivia awkwardly caught the fob with both hands before they hit her right in the middle of her chest.</p><p>"For saving Pam," he said quietly.</p><p>Olivia looked down at the object on her palm, staring at the little Corvette logo on the key fob. These were the keys to his car.</p><p>"Wait!" She called out, but it was too late. Eric had shot high up into the night sky, leaving her alone in the empty parking lot. Well, almost empty. It was just her and the blood-red Corvette.</p><p>She stared at it - impeccable condition, not even a speck of dust on the vehicle. The irony was palpable: Olivia had to get rid of her 50 thousand dollar BMW because it was too fancy for the neighborhood, just to be gifted a 70 thousand dollar car that you could hear coming from two blocks away and looked like it could belong on a Fast and Furious movie. And to add insult to injury - the car was a standard which she did not know how to drive.</p><p>
  <em>God fucking dammit, Eric.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Eric Northman knew Hot Rain would be waiting for him inside his late progeny's house in Bossier before he even got there. So when he strolled in Long Shadow's suburban home across the river, Eric was not startled to see him sitting on the couch, patiently biding his time. Eric had been in this house countless times before he knew his business partner was a lying, traitorous stealing dickbag; so he knew the layout very well.</p><p>"Shall we settle this like men?" Hot Rain asked, finally standing up from the worn-out couch. Long Shadow did not take care of his house like he took care of the bar, that was evident. It was dusty and littered, and the house smelled like old trash and crusted blood, but the thing that disgusted him the most was standing in the room with him.</p><p>Eric slowly stepped around the living room, unafraid of his enemy's presence, despite knowing Hot Rain was there ready to kill him. "I'm afraid that train left the second you came for Pam."</p><p>"It's only fair, don't you think? You killed <em>my </em>progeny-"</p><p>"Now, now…" He leered. "Why would you think that? Wasn't Long Shadow my longtime business partner? My <em>trusted</em> and honorable fellow vampire? What would drive me to <em>do</em> such a thing to a so-called <em>friend?</em>"</p><p>Hot Rain's face hardened, but the clicking sound of his fangs descending came through his pursed lips. He knew exactly what his progeny's wrongdoing was. He possibly even ordered him to do it. The why didn't matter - Hot Rain was just another loose end that was about to get snipped short. If he had one rule to live by, is that <em>no one</em> came for his Pamela and lived to tell the tale.</p><p>"You stooping so low as to kill one of our own is not really that surprising," Hot Rain's voice trembled in anger. "Once you factor in where your dirty money comes from."</p><p>Eric came to a full stop in the middle of the room. He wasn't surprised by someone from outside of Louisiana finally finding out about the vampire blood dealing business. But he was stunned that the information had been leaked by someone he trusted so closely. Just goes to show that the only vampire a vampire can trust is the vampire he made.</p><p>"That's one <em>hell</em> of a high horse you're riding there, Hot Rain, but let's not forget it wasn't <em>me</em> who pushed a suicidal vampire to go through with it."</p><p>"I thought watching you and Pamela suffer some fucking consequences would be a nice change. But had I known there was an easier <em>human</em> target that would make your own fucking Queen kill you, I'd have gone for that instead. That'd be fucking poetry."</p><p>His brows furrowed and he felt his hands form fists at the threat. "Guess you missed out on that."</p><p>"I did," Hot Rain leered. "But the others sure won't."</p>
<hr/><p>Olivia got out of bed shortly before 2 PM. She hadn't slept in this late since probably her freshman year of college, or maybe her poker tournament days. Automatically her hands fumbled through her sheets looking for her BlackBerry, which was hiding under one of the pillows. The screen was dark and the keys were unresponsive - right. When she got home last night she was so exhausted she had turned the phone off before falling asleep since her brain couldn't muster navigating through the process of disabling just the morning alarm. Liv turned it back on and hopped in the shower. Despite not having Northman or Leclerq related dirty dreams yet again (thank God), she got used to her ice-cold awakening ritual.</p><p>She washed her hair, did a hair mask on and shaved her legs. She had to bring her A-game today, starting with calling the Queen's top day person: Mr. Cataliades, her lawyer. He was the Queen's Portia Bellefleur so to speak. Olivia would inform him of last night's trial - that is if the entire Louisiana state didn't already know - and then request access to all of Duprez's records. Something there just didn't sit right with her, and Olivia trusted her own gut more than anything. It had no taste for picking romantic partners, but when it came to her job, it was rarely wrong.</p><p>With wet hair dripping onto her loose t-shirt, Olivia headed to the kitchen to pour herself a bowl of cereal, but she encountered a figure sitting outside in the middle of her patio reading the newspaper in a shady spot of her deck, on a foldable lawn chair.</p><p>"Excuse me, who let you in here?" Olivia shouted while she pushed through the kitchen's back door, abandoning her cereal bowl altogether.</p><p>"Ah, good, you're finally awake," the man put down the newspaper, but it still sat open on his lap as if he were going to resume his reading right after this conversation. The man was not exactly fit but was not in terrible shape either. Judging by the lines on his face, the stranger was in his 50s. He had short buzz-cut grey hair and his brilliant blue eyes studied her. He wore khaki shorts and a navy blue synthetic polo as if he were supposed to be golfing somewhere. "I'm Bobby Burnham, Mr. Northman's day man."</p><p>Olivia froze in place, suddenly aware that she was wearing short shorts and a flimsy tee that was half wet from her hair - and no bra. His name was familiar, but she was still suspicious of this stranger sitting in her backyard, so she dove right into his mind - he was telling the truth. Bobby Burnham was a retired cop, and today he lied to his wife saying he was playing golf all day with his buddies. It was his go-to excuse instead of telling the old ball and chain that he worked for vampires under the table to make up for the retirement fund he lost while gambling - which was yet another secret Bobby Burnham was keeping from his wife.</p><p>Olivia liked people with secrets, especially the ones she could use for extortion. It didn't make her trust them anymore or less than usual, but having a certain power over her peers brought her a certain kind of inner peace.</p><p>"What are you doing here?"</p><p>"Check your phone," he said as he popped his newspaper in front of him.</p><p>"Is everything okay?"</p><p>"Your phone," he repeated from behind the pages.</p><p>Olivia headed back to her bedroom and reached for her phone on the nightstand. 13 missed calls and 3 voicemails, all from Eric Northman. <em>Oh shit.</em> She immediately dialled her inbox and listened to the first message.</p><p>
  <em>Olivia pick up the fucking phone! Pick it up! Pick it UP! PICK IT UP! They are coming for you next dammit! Beep-</em>
</p><p>They are coming? Who's coming?</p><p>
  <em>Listen, I brought you into this mess because you can be my eyes and ears when my own judgement is clouded with Pam's life on the line but now I come back to Fangtasia, my car - I mean your car - the Corvette is still here but you are nowhere to be fucking found; Hot Rain is not working alone and there is nothing but radio fucking silence from you! So please find a way to carve a few moments out of your busiest schedule pick up your goddamn phone and tell me precisely where THE FUCK YOU ARE?! Beep-</em>
</p><p>Olivia's lips curled in a small smile at the mental image of Eric flying everywhere in town looking for her, trying to beat the sunrise. She sure should not find Eric's panic or rage funny, but somehow there was a bit of cosmic justice in his slight suffering? His last message was much less chaotic, his voice was smooth and cool just like she was used to.</p><p>
  <em>You are home asleep.</em>
</p><p>There was a long pause on the line. Olivia imagined Eric standing in her yard, watching her sleep through the gap of her curtains.</p><p>
  <em>Bobby Burnham and a few trusted men will escort you until sundown. I have eyes everywhere. Look into Long Shadow and his accounts and report to me at sundown. Don't do anything stupid. Beep-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>End of messages.</em>
</p><p>Olivia reassessed her to-do list given the new information Eric left amid his angry ramblings. According to him, Hot Rain - whoever that was - was behind framing Pamela for the murder of her own progeny. And somehow Long Shadow was involved? And now there were others?</p><p>She put her wet hair up with a banana hair clip, changed into a dry t-shirt (and added a bra) and walked back out to her backyard, where Bobby Burnham was still reading his paper.</p><p>"Are you armed?"</p><p>"Always," his eyes peeked from the top of the pages. His mind thought of the pistol tucked on the back of his belt. It was loaded.</p><p>Good. If there were vampires gunning for her next, Shreveport did not have a shortage of criminals ready to do their bidding. It was best she had security with her. "Feel free to come in, use the kitchen and the bathroom as you wish. I'll be working in my office, which is the first door down the hall."</p><p>He hesitated, sinking a bit deeper in his lawn chair. "Thanks, but I better stay out here for my watch. Samuel is sitting in his car parked across the street covering the front, but I'll let him know of your hospitality."</p><p>Olivia nodded before heading back inside. She had had security detail before when she lived in New Orleans working for the Queen. Liv had armed men following her like quiet shadows for over a year so she knew the feeling. But having people actively watching her after she spent years devoting her time and energy to <em>not</em> being watched, never felt quite right. Once she sat in her office, Liv called the Queen's lawyer, who was surprised at her request on Duprez's records.</p><p>She was going to get to Long Shadow, but she was going to test a theory first. "I just have an inkling there's more to last night's events than we know. You know me, Mr. Cataliades-"</p><p>"Very thorough, I know."</p><p>There was a long pause on the phone. If this was done in person, she would consider trying to read his mind on the matter, but going through his brain always gave her a wicked headache. Plus, every time she did it, there was something about his body language that indicated that he could somehow <em>feel</em> her going through his brain. If he was preoccupied with his computer or was standing across the room while she listened in, he always looked up at her as if she had called out his name. She had a theory that he was not all human. What he was though, she did not know. There were so many supernatural beings walking this earth she couldn't even take a wild guess.</p><p>"If this is what I think it is, the Queen might be in trouble," she lied. Kind of? Who knows what she would find.</p><p>Clearly, those were the magical words. "Is your machine up and working?"</p><p>Mr. Cataliades meant her fax machine. Yes, it was the year 2009 and they <em>still</em> used one. Other than a USB drive, it was the most secure way to send sensitive documents without the prying eyes of viruses and other server bugs. Old school analog was unhackable and Olivia still liked it very much.</p><p>About ten minutes after she hung up the phone, her fax machine started ringing and the papers started to roll out with faded small print. Mr. Cataliades had sent her bank statements, property statements, his last 3 years' worth of tax declarations, information on everyone on his payroll plus his phone records. She started combing through it slowly, not entirely sure what she was looking for.</p><p>The quantity of information alone was overwhelming. Duprez had been Sheriff for the past six decades, much longer than Eric who was appointed in the mid-80s. She had checked Duprez's accounts at the past three Curia Regis', as she did with all the accounts for all Sheriffs in all five areas - that's how she found Eric's missing money months ago. Still, <strong>rule number 2: triple-check the math.</strong></p><p>But there was nothing missing - he was clean as a whistle. The Queen did not ask him to do any dirty business either, as she was very selective who gave the opportunity to do so. The Area 2 Sheriff had no recent audits, no big purchases, no new hires. No sketchy money in <em>or</em> out. Duprez was living his quiet and boring life in Alexandria, ruling on behalf of his Queen. <em>Hmm</em>. Olivia checked the phone records, and there were pages and pages and pages of calls to a single 501 area code number. 501? That was Arkansas, not anywhere in Louisiana. Who was he calling?</p><p>Olivia headed out back quickly, her mind spinning with questions. The easiest way of finding your enemies was by looking in the obvious places first. Bobby Burnham was still reading the papers and he was visibly startled by her abrupt house exit. For someone keeping watch, he wasn't very alert of his surroundings.</p><p>"Do you have Long Shadow's phone number?"</p><p>"I'm pretty sure he's… Dead, Miss."</p><p>"I know, I need to cross-check something."</p><p>Bobby reached for his phone and scrolled down his contact list. Olivia waited impatiently. "Uh... 318 555-"</p><p>"Dammit!" She stormed back into the house.</p><p>It was now just past 5 PM and the sun was going to set in 2 hours. She had to have some answers before Eric came knocking - making headway in his life's problems was the only way to keep her neck attached to her body, in this case literally. The whole town now knew Eric Northman had the obligation of keeping Olivia intact. And currently, there was a lineup of vamps looking to take advantage of that. She replayed the voicemail messages he left her - he mentioned Hot Rain. <em>Hot Rain is not working alone</em>. Meaning what? He was connected to Long Shadow? He was dead, why did that matter? She had a bunch of puzzle pieces but didn't quite know how to put them together. Olivia walked back out for what it felt like the tenth time.</p><p>"Do you know who Hot Rain is?"</p><p>"Ma'am, do I look like the vampire phone book?" Bobby responded annoyed.</p><p>"Well, you work for one-"</p><p>"Yeah, so do you."</p><p><em>Touche. </em>Onto plan B - she had to look into Long Shadow as per Eric's instructions. She didn't like what happened when she disobeyed his requests and time was running out already. "I need to go for an errand."</p><p>"Can it wait until sundown? Staying here is the safest place-"</p><p>"I am going <em>now</em>, with or without you."</p><p>The man looked 10 years older as he sighed and got up from his chair. "He did warn me you are a pain in the ass."</p><p>She was going to take it as a <em>yes</em>. Olivia told him she would be ready in 30, as she had to get dressed. He unenthusiastically agreed and called Samuel, the security guard posted out front, about their outing.</p><p>Olivia quickly blew dried her hair, smoothing out the kinks of her hair clip; put on some makeup and slipped on a green wrap summer dress, brown sandals and grabbed a matching purse. Bobby was out front on the street, putting his folding chair back in the trunk of his Camry.</p><p>"I'll follow you," he said grumpily.</p><p>"Actually, I was hoping you'd drive me there. I don't have a car right now," <em>that I know how to drive.</em></p><p>"Fine. Get in," he muttered as the two hopped into Bobby Burnham's car.</p><p>It actually saddened her a little that she couldn't drive the car Eric gave her. As soon as she turned 16 her father started teaching her how to drive on his Subaru Legacy Wagon which was automatic. The summer after that he planned on getting his dream car - a vintage Pontiac Firebird - which would be a standard, and he promised to teach her how to drive that one too. He always preached the importance of knowing how to drive both, and he swore that driving standard 'felt' better. Though, she never got to learn or find out which one was superior, as her dad passed away that winter. She could have asked her mom, or cousin to teach her but… It just wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be her dad, and it wouldn't be on his vintage Pontiac Firebird.</p><p>Olivia gave Bobby the directions of where she wanted to go and he sighed again, recognizing the address. They drove in silence across the bridge to Bossier, listening to the chatter on the police radio on his dashboard. It was a quiet afternoon in Shreveport.</p><p>Bobby's thoughts were loudly bouncing all over the place, wondering why the hell Olivia wanted to go to Long Shadow's house. She had no idea how Long Shadow fit into it all, but it was what Eric had asked and she needed to at least try before sundown. Maybe he had some connection to Arkansas, or Hot Rain, or Duprez, or with any of the three vampires who had falsely accused Pamela.</p><p>After being in Eric's house, Long Shadow's home was not at all what she expected. It wasn't grand or in good shape whatsoever. It was an older two-storey suburban home that could use a coat of paint; the lawn was overgrown and slightly burnt from the summer heat. There was no car parked on the bumpy gravel driveway, and all the windows had faded withdrawn curtains. A small stack of newspapers sat rolled up on the welcome mat. Olivia knew it would be useless to knock - it was still daytime and this was a vampire home whose owner was <em>dead</em> dead. Much to her surprise, Bobby knew exactly what to do. He discreetly picked the front door lock with a lockpick he had on his keychain. In less than a minute of standing by the door, they both entered.</p><p>The pungent smell hit them first. If she had to put it into words, it reminded her of a rotting dead raccoon inside a compost bin in the middle of summer. The hot stale air from the lack of air circulation hit them second. The AC was off, and the shut windows combined with the closed curtains turned this house into an oven, roasting whatever died in here.</p><p>The furniture was straight out of a Sears catalogue from the 90s - and not in a good way - and had a growing layer of dust on it. Long Shadow was not a neat or clean freak by any means, there were clutter and trash everywhere. Thirty seconds into exploring the house and they found the source of the smell. There were goop and muck of vampire remains spread all over the living room. There were guts, pieces of bones, clumps of hair and blood smeared all over the carpet and the walls.</p><p>"Long Shadow?" Olivia asked, regretting opening her mouth and tasting it.</p><p>"No, this is semi-fresh. Long Shadow died months ago," Bobby spoke with his hands covering his mouth. He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead.</p><p>Bobby pointed out the signs of struggle in the room. There was an armchair flipped over with a missing arm, the coffee table was smashed and there was a floor lamp broken in half. There were large dents in the drywall too. Whoever this was, went down fighting. Olivia recognized the brown suede fringe jacket tossed on the corner. She saw the victim wearing it last night at the trial. He spoke up against Eric, and the Viking had shot him an extra icy look. Judging by how this room was painted red, she suspected Eric had done this. Tearing people apart was one of his special talents.</p><p>Olivia spoke, trying not to breathe the rotten air in. "Hot Rain."</p><p>"Okay, mystery solved. Can we get the hell out of here now?" The man asked, concentrating on not barfing.</p><p>She shared the sentiment. "I need all of Long Shadow's electronics. Computers, laptops, cellphones, hard drives, the works. His wallet and passport too, if you can find it."</p><p>The two split and started going through the crime scene trying to find Long Shadow's belongings. Bobby went for the bedrooms upstairs and Olivia went to the kitchen. Long Shadow's laptop was the easiest find, it was sitting right on top of the kitchen table, plugged in and everything. She opened it, attached her password-cracking software USB to it and moved on to the den.</p><p>Long Shadow had a small stuffy office, filled with Fangtasia paperwork, books and a whole lot of baseball memorabilia. On his desk was a business phone with a small red flashing light. Olivia pressed his voicemail button and listened through his messages. Some were from old lovers wondering where he was. Two were surveys, one was a robot-caller awarding him with a free cruise, one was from his bank selling credit card insurance. Then, a cold raspy tone she recognized.</p><p>
  <em>I've summoned you twice now my childe. The plan is in motion and it is too late to stop it. Call me back immediately. Beep-</em>
</p><p>It was Hot Rain's voice coming through the machine. Hot Rain was Long Shadow's maker! Going after Pamela must have been revenge for Eric killing Long Shadow. But Hot Rain did not know his progeny was dead when he had left this message. What plan was he referring to exactly? Did this have anything to do with the stolen money? She looked at the phone number on the display. She recognized the 501 area code number. <em>Bingo.</em></p><p>Bobby walked down the stairs loudly. "There's someone out front!"</p><p>Olivia grabbed the laptop from the kitchen and hastily shoved it in her purse. She couldn't see anyone outside through the drawn curtains, but they both dashed towards the back door. However, they were too late - there were two men already standing directly on the back porch steps.</p><p>All of the air residing in Olivia's lungs and bloodstream disappeared. First, the man standing directly in front of her looked right through her soul with his brown stormy eyes. He was the stupidly attractive guy from the jail's parking lot, the man yelling at Debbie Pelt weeks ago. His brows still slightly furrowed, definitely less angry than he was that day but he had a magnetic air about him that made her feel suddenly electric.</p><p>Secondly, they were wearing black slacks and white button-ups and the dreaded dark navy windbreakers, with the three bright yellow letters on their chest. She wondered for a second if this was all an awful dream. If she ever thought living out her dirty dreams with Eric Northman was bad, having this tall sex-on-a-stick of a man being a DEA agent blocking her from exiting a vamp murder scene while accompanied with a dirty ex-cop… No, this wasn't a dream. Not even her Slitheryn brain could have come up with such a fucked up nightmare.</p><p>"Good day ma'am," the man spoke with a deep and smooth voice. "This is special agent Glenn Costa, and I am special agent Alcide Hervaux," <em>this cannot be happening</em>, Olivia told herself. She felt hot and cold at the same time. It was like she was watching a car crash happen in slow motion where she was both the car and the driver at the same time.</p><p>"We are with the DEA. May we come in?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>An:</p><p>Hello! Missed you guys dearly &lt;3 </p><p>To be real for a second, my mental health has not been awesome lately and I just wasn't finding joy in anything (including writing). But something clicked this week and this chapter (and the next one) were born and I had tons of fun writing it!</p><p>You guys seem to like Olivia and her criminal brain so I gave you some of that before everything gets fucked up. </p><p>Until next time! xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Born to be Bad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olivia's mouth was so dry her tongue couldn't even move. The DEA paying them a visit was a doomsday level of crisis. She had mentally prepared for this scenario her whole life, and a mix of talent, luck and an abundance of caution made it so she never encountered cops on the job before. She could no longer say that. "You can't," Olivia said, suddenly regaining control of her mouth.</p><p>"Why not?" Glenn Costa barked.</p><p>"You said it yourself," the men surrounding her thought she was being dodgy as hell, Bobby Burnham included. "It's <em>daytime</em> and the man you are looking for hasn't risen yet. He is a vampire."</p><p>Glenn Costa immediately thought Olivia was a stuck-up bitch. She got that a lot. "Well, can we come in and wait until he does?"</p><p>The bombshell's eyebrows narrowed just past her, and he wasn't looking at Bobby either. His mind was clouded and dark - similar to Debbie Pelt's. <em>Shit</em>, he was a werewolf. He must have just caught the scent of the decomposing vampire inside. This was getting worse by the fucking second.</p><p>"Sure ya can boys," Bobby spoke up, cool and collected. He had a lifetime of practice at being dodgy. "As soon as I see that warrant."</p><p>The men shuffled on their feet as they quickly glanced at each other. What was it with the damn DEA and searching without warrants? She expected that sneaky shit from cops, not from the feds.</p><p>"We just want to talk, nothing to be alarmed about. There's been an awful lot of vamp blood in the black market and we are looking for leads on where to go lookin'," The stormy beauty had shoulders of a line-backer, and smooth dark brown hair her fingers were begging to run through. His jawline could cut glass.</p><p>Bobby's thoughts were hectic and loud. He knew Eric was going to be monumentally pissed off about having the feds on their tail. And he was absolutely correct, they had to get out of here <em>now</em>. Especially because special agent Alcide Herveaux was full of shit - being a werewolf he knew damn well about the hierarchy of the supernatural world; were he just a concerned party, he would have spoken directly to the vampire Sheriff, not his crony. And had he done already so, Olivia would have 100% heard about it. Keeping the DEA away was a pretty big part of her job. A part she still wasn't sure how she failed.</p><p>"Feel free to hang outside until sundown. But we must get going, we are late for a meeting. Bobby?"</p><p>"Yep, we better get going," he agreed, twisting the kitchen doorknob to shut behind them. Olivia and her bodyguard both stepped past them, making the two special agents take a step apart to let them through. "Nice meeting you boys, I'm sure Long Shadow will love to chat once the sun dips."</p><p>"<em>If</em> he's home," Olivia added, for luck.</p><p>"If?" Alcide asked, not taking his eyes away from her. She could only get a vague intention of his clouded thoughts, and he had mixed feelings about her. Mixed at least meant not all bad.</p><p>"Didn't check the coffin. We just dropped off his dry cleaning and some synthetic blood."</p><p>"You're his day staff," Glenn Costa said matter-of-factly. "I didn't catch your names?"</p><p>"I'm <em>Subpoena</em> and this is <em>Court Order</em>," Olivia smiled as she stepped off the porch. <strong>Rule number 3: everyone lies -</strong> except to law enforcement under the circumstances that can lead to indictments. But legally, no one has to disclose their names to these agents without a subpoena or court order. Olivia had to be careful who she presented herself as and to whom.</p><p>Just as Liv turned to follow Bobby to the car, she felt a warm hand brush on her wrist. Alcide Herveaux stood right next to her, she could feel the heat radiating right from his skin. Maybe she had been hanging out with vampires for too long, so feeling the warmth from another person felt strange. Maybe werewolves were just <em>extra </em>hot - he certainly was.</p><p>"In case you change your mind, <em>subpoena</em>," his sarcasm overtook a small smile, but it was still there. It made her melt.</p><p>Alcide Hervaux put a small little business card between her fingers, and she took it, feeling the weight of the DEA logo on the corner edge, by his name. No matter how attractive this 6'5 tall hunk of a man was, and how much she wants to rip the buttons off his shirt, Olivia must never forget who he is and who he works for.</p><p>"We'll see." She looked at his eyes deeply, trying to read the mind behind it. Dark summer storm skies was all she got - suddenly she really liked rain showers.</p><p>"Oi!" Bobby called from the car. "We don't have <em>all day</em>."</p><p>Liv hurried back to the Camry as the golden hour was setting quickly. It wouldn't take long for the agents to realize there was no 'living' vampire inside, and probably even less time for them to show up at Fangtasia or at Eric's house next. And Alcide Hervaux, being a werewolf, already knew they were hiding secrets. Now it was just a matter of finding out how much he knew to convince a judge to sign a search warrant on this Bossier home or get either Olivia or Bobby or another staff in for questioning - with subpoenas this time. That is, assuming these were law-abiding agents who followed procedure and weren't breaking into Long Shadow's house at this very second. Alcide sure had the body to kick or punch his way through a bank vault door.</p><p>Her mind played out the police questioning - they would find Hot Rain's pile of goop and make the logical assumption it was Long Shadow. It was unlikely either Olivia or Bobby would be charged with his murder, as there was no law forbidding the killing of vampires (Vampire Rights Amendment pending). They couldn't be charged with obstruction of justice either by killing "Long Shadow'' as a witness before they got to question him; they would have to prove in court they knew the DEA was coming, which they sure as shit did not.</p><p>There was also no published science on the timeline of a vampire corpse decomposing after their true death, so they could simply lie that there was no dead body in the living room when they were there (assuming they didn't break into the house immediately after they left). Alcide would know the lie, she just had to make sure he couldn't prove it. All she needed to do was to get rid of their shoes - Hot Rain's blood on their soles was the only evidence that could prove otherwise. Someone could have come into Long Shadow's home and killed him that night, provided the DEA didn't stake outside of it all night. Hot Rain's body would serve a purpose after all.</p><p>But there was <em>way</em> too much riding on assumptions for Olivia's comfort level. And the biggest question was: what the hell were they doing there in the first place? Why are they investigating black market vampire blood? And why Long Shadow?</p><p>"Shit that was close," Bobby cursed, glancing in the rearview mirror every three seconds, worried the feds were following them.</p><p>"<em>Too</em> close."</p><p>"Eric Northman is not going to be happy."</p><p>He usually wasn't either way, from Olivia's experience. But in this case, it had to be a fluke. A slow day at the DEA's office, a junkie who talked too much at the hospital, or a dealer trading information with the DA for a lesser sentence. Plus, if Long Shadow was sleazy enough to embezzle 60 grand from <em>Eric Northman</em> who knew what other kind of shit he was involved with?</p><p>Olivia felt a bottomless pit of nerves in her stomach. How the hell did she not see this coming? She refused to believe it had anything to do with their business expansion or any paperwork she had filed since she got the Area 5 assignment. How the hell was she supposed to tell him the DEA came by after she spent the last months convincing Eric that her worth relied on avoiding the feds altogether? How would he ever trust her again if she had failed? The vampire was too unpredictable for her to give him the truth without answers. She had to look at the <em>whole damn picture</em> before telling him. He wasn't the type of client you only tell bad news to.</p><p>"Then let's not make him unhappy," Olivia said holding Long Shadow's laptop tight on her lap. "Let <em>me</em> handle it, okay? Don't say anything."</p><p>"Are you insane? We're not gonna tell him - of all people - that the feds got vamps on their radar?"</p><p>"I will tell him," Liv assured him. <em>When I have to.</em></p><p>Bobby shot her a skeptical look, but before he could manage to say anything the police radio on the car - which had been quiet all of the ride back to Shreveport, burst into voices shouting codes.</p><p>"<em>10-50-F</em> on Westmount and Highland Avenue-"</p><p>"10-71?"</p><p>"<em>Unknown, requesting 10-58."</em></p><p>"<em>10-12."</em></p><p>Bobby's whole demeanor changed. His mind was buzzing with police jargon that Olivia could barely understand. Something really terrible had happened. He muttered something intangible under his breath and took a last-second left turn at the intersection they were halfway through.</p><p>"What's happening?"</p><p>Bobby only glanced at Olivia for a second, but it showed a level of darkness that intimidated even her. Bobby feared for her, for himself, for his wife, for his kids in college. Suddenly the DEA hounds were the <em>least </em>of their worries. On the same breath, he told her. "Fangtasia is on fire."</p><hr/><p>Eric knew it was too early for him to rise. He felt in his bones, but something inside him rattled back to life. His body felt like lead, every move felt alarmingly heavy and slow. He knew he was alone in his home - Pam was sleeping at the bar, no other vampire could enter and no one had tripped the house alarm. But still, he sat up awake on his large King bed wondering what the hell he was doing up. He glanced at his clock - 12 minutes until dark. It may not feel that far off for a human to wake up 12 minutes earlier, but to Eric, the whole world felt upside down.</p><p>He reached for his phone, which despite being on silent he could very much see on the screen someone was calling him - Bobby Burnham, his day man.</p><p>"Mr. Northman-" his voice gulped for a second, he did not anticipate Eric actually picking up.</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Um, something's happened at the bar, we don't know how or who - the day guards are nowhere to be found. Ah, the cops are here so maybe don't come yet. Oh shit, the press just pulled up. No yeah, definitely come. And Olivia's here too-"</p><p>"Bobby!" Eric yelled. "Just get to the point!"</p><p>"There's been a fire at Fangtasia-"</p><p>Eric did not hear any words Bobby said after that. He just stood in his room, cold and still like a statue. He did everything he was supposed to do: eliminated the most pressing threat, placed security around all his assets, including Fangtasia. There were five men total surrounding the place while a whole construction crew worked on the main level. He instructed Chow to lock himself and Pamela in the basement while they slept in their coffins. In his mind, Fangtasia was bright red and orange, engulfed in the flames of his enemies.</p><p>That place had more eyes, cameras and locks than a Fort, but <em>yet</em> it was attacked? His one and only progeny had died a horrible death in the place she built and ruled herself with more determination than anyone he had ever met. He let Pam die alongside his most trusted friend. They had both trusted him. Eric thought isolating himself would keep her safe, but his enemies did not care for his death. They wanted to see him suffer.</p><p>Suffering would not even be <em>close</em> to describing what he would do to those who dared had hurt his family. Who had dared to cross Eric Northman? They didn't know it yet, but they created their own worst nightmare - an ancient vampire with nothing to lose who had an appetite for vengeance. And he was starving.</p><p>The instant he felt the weight on his bones lift, Eric jumped out of the window and flew high across the city. There was a line of blood orange on the horizon, but the true death no longer scared him. He could see the burst of blue and red lights flashing and swirling in the Fangtasia parking lot. He saw no fire, just smoke. The whole south wall of the bar had black shadows smeared from top to bottom. It had ruined the neon sign and the main entrance awning but the building was still standing which gave him a glimmer of hope. Hope was dangerous. He scanned the lot for body bags or half-burnt coffins but found nothing but cop cars, news vans, a red corvette, people in uniform, emergency vehicles and puddles of water.</p><p>When Eric landed, some cops and a couple of firefighters gasped. It was normal for humans not to expect vampires flying. One of the Shreveport policemen approached him.</p><p>"Are you the owner of this place?"</p><p>"The vampires in the basement." He demanded.</p><p>"Uh-"</p><p>Eric wanted to grab the man by the throat, and it took him an abysmal effort not to. He looked deeply into the man's eyes whose gaze gave in without fighting. "<em>The</em> <em>vampires in the basement. Did they make it?"</em></p><p>"Y-Yes. I think so. They should have. The fire started on the outside and went up the wall. The fire marshall is checking the rest of the structure now."</p><p>Just like a spell, Pamela and Chow both emerged from the front entrance, stepping over the axed front door which laid in pieces on his parking spot. His progeny was soaking wet, her velour juicy couture sweatsuit was dark and droopy with water. She had mascara running down her magnolia petal cheeks, and the sprinkler system was certainly not kind to her hair. But she was unscathed - not a scratch or burn on her.</p><p>Pamela walked into his arms like a ghost. She threw her arms around his torso and he embraced her quietly, trying to shake off the thoughts of her true death by burning up. After a moment, Pamela seemed to return to her usual self and quietly let go. Bobby Burnham approached him - it was odd actually seeing him. He usually dealt with the man via the phone only.</p><p>"Firefighters think it started shortly after the construction crew left for the day. The people at the diner across the street made the 911 call. I still have no idea where the security detail that was guarding Fangtasia went. I told Samuel to start looking through dumpsters in the area. I don't think they made it."</p><p>"And Olivia?"</p><p>"She's at the diner," he nodded across the street. At a glance Eric could see her sitting at the booth, staring at a laptop and talking into her Blackberry. "She's calling the insurance company. Or… Buying the insurance company? I don't know. But you should, ah… Talk to her."</p><p>Eric registered but ignored the ominous tone of his voice, as he reeled into the odd relief of watching her being safe from the destruction. Maybe causing some destruction of her own.</p><p>Chow had made himself useful and called upon Eric's inner circle of trusted vampires. Thalia and Gerald appeared a minute after. He instructed Gerald to glamour all the important info from the cops and firefighters, and erase any information they should not have. Chow and Bobby would look for the missing security detail he had put on Fangtasia, and check if any of the security cameras caught the arsonists. Finally, he told Thalia to escort Pamela home so she could feed and shower, with emphasis on her safety. Whoever the "others" Hot Rained mentioned were, he was sure they did not forget Pamela. Luckily Thalia was just as old as he was and twice more aggressive. If anyone crossed them, they would not live to tell about it.</p><p>Eric walked alone to the diner across the street. It was almost empty despite it being dinner time. He guessed the cops must have blocked the streets for the trucks. And since Americans were allergic to walking, the place was quiet. The only person talking was Olivia, who was spelling out Fangtasia's insurance policy code on the phone with a commanding tone while focusing her attention on the laptop screen.</p><p>He slid in the booth sitting right across from her, sitting on the slightly uncomfortable green vinyl seat. He had never been inside this diner before, despite owning the business across the street for the past 30 years. It had always been here, though - it was just insignificant to him until this very moment.</p><p>The waitress came up and refilled Olivia's cup of coffee without making eye contact with him. She smelled of fear as she took away an empty plate filled with crumbs of something his accountant had eaten. The smell of the hot drink offended him. It was cheap, low quality, and half-burnt coffee but Olivia did not seem to care as she sipped it anyway. She glanced at him multiple times but did not stray from her work. It's what he paid her for.</p><p>So he simply sat there, watching her work. Even under awful fluorescent lighting, Olivia was quite beautiful. Her hair was down, and she wore a nice green dress that showed a bit of cleavage. He liked the daytime casual version of her. He seemed to like every version of her, even the ones that drove him crazy. Eric caught himself in awe. He was completely comfortable in the presence of this woman. Her fearlessness, determination and intelligence surprised him again and again and it had been a <em>very</em> long time since Eric Northman found himself surprised by a human. Nevermind awe.</p><p>Finally, she hung up the phone. "Is Pam-"</p><p>"She's alive." He said simply.</p><p>Olivia did not look relieved or happy or sad at this. She just continued down the long list of things she had to tell him. "It's not as bad as it looks," she warned him. She had a notepad full of notes beside her laptop, scribbled in her perfectly neat handwriting. Humans now wrote in a computer-style font, old fashioned calligraphy was long gone. He wondered if he wrote her a letter if she could read it.</p><p>The accountant briefed him on the insurance status, the company would come in the morning to assess the damage and payout. But neither Eric or Olivia worried about the coverage, as he bought into the premium insurance bracket after the Vampire kind revealed itself to the world. When he opened the bar a couple of years ago he fully expected Shreveport citizens to storm the front door with torches and pitchforks. Contractors would come after the insurance adjusters to reassess the reconstruction timeline. The south wall would have to be fixed, along with all the water damage from the fire trucks and sprinkler system.</p><p>"And now for the <em>other</em> thing," Olivia spun the laptop around to show him the screen.</p><p>It was a long email thread, he immediately dove in. It seemed to him that bad things came in threes. "Duprez?"</p><p>"And some Arkansas vampires were conspiring to overthrow Queen Sophie-Anne. Long Shadow and Hot Rain included."</p><p>Long Shadow was just the dagger that kept on backstabbing. Their little terrorist group wanted to dethrone the Louisiana Queen since they decided her golden reigning days were over. Louisiana had always been a key state in the vampire political world. New Orleans used to be the vampire capital of the world for about two whole centuries, long before the Great Revelation in '06. But since Katrina, the city not only lost a lot of vampires by destroying daytime hideouts, but the ones who survived had feasted on the dead, dying and living humans which significantly increased the death toll.</p><p>The Vampire Authority had rules in place for post-natural disaster buffets, and Queen Sophie-Anne (who's also the Sheriff of her own Area) was simply too short-handed to enforce vamp laws in the nights following the storm. The Authority had to send its militia, the glamour squad worked overtime for weeks, many of the dead human bodies were so bitten the Authority had to sink them offshore and let the sharks finish them.</p><p>Not only did the Queen lose significant political capital, but she had also lost almost all of her vamp business revenue and her palace had been looted clean in the riots. Sophie-Anne LeClerq's career basically crashed like an Airbus full of eggs. That was when she started her V selling Empire, which - surprise surprise - was extremely profitable. Her enemies prepared for the "Louisiana Queen is Over" party, but it never really took off which pissed off and confused a lot of people. These scheming vampires were here to finish a job that fate never did.</p><p>The catch was, Long Shadow was advocating for Eric to be nominated King after they 86'd the Queen. After Hot Rain found out about <em>Eric's</em> betrayal to their cause, they decided Duprez would take over but they still had to take Eric out. For vengeance, but also because the Authority would probably make Eric King, whether local vampires nominated Duprez or not.</p><p>Eric felt enraged. He did not like to be a pawn in other people's games, not in the slightest. He hated that all of this could have been avoided had he just gone through Long Shadow's laptop, which was just sitting in an empty house all these months. He thought his friend's lies were simply motivated by greed when they were not. There was <em>some</em> nobility to him, but certainly not enough. The last thing Eric wanted was the crown, something he had made clear to everyone in his inner circle. He wasn't saying it out of humbleness, he truly didn't care for titles.</p><p>"Is that all?" He asked, closing the computer gently, focusing on not throwing it across the diner.</p><p>Olivia hesitated for a second, which was worrying. He remembered Bobby reluctantly telling him to speak to her. "Yep. That's all I got." She said sharply.</p><p>Eric let that settle in for a second, as he looked deep in her brown sparkling eyes. She reached for her coffee and hid half her face behind the mug. Chow and Gerald came in, much for the discomfort of the lone waitress who was making herself busy cleaning behind the counter. They quietly slid into the booth with them, Chow making his body cozy to Olivia's side. She didn't seem to mind.</p><p>When no one spoke up, Eric remembered where they were. They wouldn't reveal sensitive information in an unsecured location without his permission. "I'll handle the waitress on our way out. Now, what did you find out?"</p><p>"One of your Fangtasia day guards redirected the other four to follow the construction crew home after their shift ended at around 5:30. He has then skipped town for the likes of it," Gerald explained.</p><p>Eric and Olivia's eyes locked. "I'm on it," Olivia told him, pulling the laptop from across the table and reopening. "Name?"</p><p>"David Garcia," Gerald said as Olivia immediately started typing away on the computer.</p><p>Chow told him he saw and heard nothing while he was inside during the day. Young vampires are extremely heavy sleepers, and it was Pamela who got up when the fire alarm started ringing. It was her fear that woke Eric up. Maybe sleeping apart hadn't been his best idea, but he surely wasn't expecting someone to set fire to the bar. He knew that if he had been in the basement instead of Chow, there was nothing he could have done. But at least they would have been together.</p><p>The vampires informed him the back office and the stock was okay, and Chow set aside the security tapes but couldn't watch them yet as the fire department had shut off power to the building. He quickly showed the tape tucked inside his jacket - the first time Eric had ever seen him wear one, but a part of him knew it was his reminder to Olivia of the man's physique. Her focus was elsewhere, however. Olivia just quickly scribbled "<em>refrigerator stock loss" </em>to the insurance checklist and without missing a beat she went back to the computer. She multitasked like a pro.</p><p>Eric then told them Olivia's findings. Duprez, Hot Rain, Long Shadow and a handful of Arkansas vampires had planned on taking out Queen Sophie-Anne. He had suspicions that the Arkansas King, Peter Threadgill was involved. That man had his eye on Louisiana ever since he came to power two centuries ago.</p><p>"My first guess would have been humans who were against a vamp strip club since we don't have a shortage of conservatives in these parts. You think this was the Arkansas vamps' doing too?" Chow asked. "But why set fire so close to sunset, though? It just seems like a half-assed plan, if the plan was to kill you or Pam."</p><p>"Maybe the vamp who did this was shite at glamouring," Gerald argued, his Britishness showing.</p><p>"David Garcia wasn't glamoured," Olivia declared. "He was paid. He waited until the construction workers left because he did not want humans to get hurt. He is also exactly 60 grand richer," Olivia told him quietly. The two locked eyes again, knowing what it meant.</p><p>It <em>was </em>all connected. And now that he had all the domino pieces in place, he had to strategically make them tip his way. He had to warn his Queen of Arkansas' moves, he had to arrest Duprez for treason, and most importantly of all - he had to get rid of all this human attention.</p><p>"And the cops?" Eric asked.</p><p>Chow and Gerald reluctantly told him the worst. "They are on this like a dog with a bone. KSLA is toying with the idea of calling it a hate crime for tomorrow's print."</p><p>
  <em>Fuck me.</em>
</p><p>If they or the media found out the arsonist was paid off by vampires or if the Authority came investigating they would find things that would get him, Pamela <em>and</em> the Queen killed. And they <em>would</em> find out, as it took his human (maybe psychic) accountant less than 5 minutes to do so. The <em>last</em> thing he wanted was to have the Authority squeezing his balls any harder. He knew what he had to do next.</p><p>What he didn't know was that it was going to change his life forever.</p><hr/><p>It was now 9 PM and Pamela was covering Olivia's face with a thick layer of makeup. She did not think this where the night was going to lead but here she was, sitting in Pam's closet vanity. She felt her heart beating in her throat.</p><p>"Remind me again why you need me there?"</p><p>She bounced the powder puff a little harder on her cheeks. "Symmetry for the pictures," Pam said disinterestedly.</p><p>Olivia replayed Eric Northman's plan for the 40th time in her head. The vampire Sheriff was going to redirect the arson investigation - which gained a lot of attention with local 6 PM news - away from the truth. He had to do damage control in both human and vampire PR terms. She understood why but he had to do it, but she didn't understand why doing a live press conference with the Shreveport Chief of Police required her to stand with him.</p><p>She had never been on TV before, and she was hoping to keep it that way. It would severely undermine her animosity for one. Eric promised Olivia she would stand far in the back and no one would even notice her. He just couldn't afford to take his eyes off of her for a minute, not until he had confirmation Duprez and all his co-conspirators were arrested. <em>It's for your own protection</em> he said for the millionth time since they've met. It was getting old.</p><p>He had made a long and private call with Her Majesty and she sent her own personal guards to end the insurgents. All she hoped was that he got that confirmation before they went live.</p><p>She hoped everyone at the press conference would focus on the tall Viking, and seeing him in the next room in a black button-up, sleek black trousers and freshly combed hair made the idea that the spotlight being on anyone but him seem absurd. His hotness was generally annoying, but tonight she was thankful for it. He was absolutely striking.</p><p>Anxiety was still making her stomach turn as she prayed to whoever was listening for her mother and aunt to skip Shreveport News tonight. Her mother always emailed her news articles of stabbings and other local crimes to her since she moved out to Princeton as if the knowledge of small-time robberies would somehow make her avoid every Wawa convenience. Her inbox became quite full when she moved to Louisiana. She knew her mom meant well and she was just worried, but it was an annoying habit of hers that wouldn't quit. God forbid she actually found out her daughter worked for <em>drug dealing vampires</em> because it was safer than secretly working for the <em>Mexican drug cartel</em>. Her poor mom would drop dead right then.</p><p>"There," Pamela said, putting away the lipstick. "Now for the wardrobe."</p><p>Olivia looked at herself in the mirror. She wouldn't have to worry about her family recognizing her on TV as she barely looked like herself. Pamela did not own any bronzer, and her foundation was much lighter than Olivia's, but at least she blended it into her ears and down her neck. Pam had given her a grey smokey eye and dark red lipstick, with a very pale pink blush. Liv looked like a mini Pamela - fierce, but dead.</p><p>She followed the vampire into the next room - their closet was more like an archive. It was as big as her own living room, every wall had dark grey customized California closets with designer lighting and velvet ottomans in the middle. Her first reaction was to scan the racks for her own clothes that Pam had stolen. But even if any of them were hung here it would take her hours to pick through and find them all.</p><p>Pam gave her a mini leather pencil skirt that hugged her hips, a burgundy blouse, a pair of black sheer tights and black heels which were actually HERS! So her clothes <em>were </em>in Pam's closet after all. Liv had to give it to her though, lending Olivia's own shoes back to her required a certain level of audacity. Regardless of what happened tonight, Olivia was dead set on keeping these heels.</p><p>The tattooed Asian vampire and Eric were having a quiet conversation down in the main living room, which is where Pam shooed her to while she was getting changed herself. Both men went quiet as they watched her come down the stairs with hungry eyes.</p><p>"This is a <em>bad</em> idea, Eric." She broke the silence.</p><p>"You certainly <em>look </em>like a bad idea," he stared at her legs with a dirty smirk. "But I like bad ideas."</p><p>She rolled her eyes, giving up on the thought that Eric was capable of taking things seriously for more than an hour. "I'm being serious. Why can't you just glamour the Police Chief to say whatever you want on TV about the investigation? Why does it have to be you?"</p><p>"Look at you," he got closer as his grin grew into a full smile that made her knees feel soft. "Caring about me."</p><p>Olivia locked her jaw and the two just stared into each other's eyes a bit too deep. It's not like she cared about him. But it wasn't like she didn't either. Eric finally ended the awkwardness. "I don't think you two have officially been introduced. Chow, this is Miss Carson, my accountant." Chow approached, also looking menacingly handsome in all black. This is Chow, the new head of security."</p><p>They both nodded to each other, and Olivia was pleased Eric entrusted security to another vampire because this was surely going to be a full-time job. Pam came down and the four got into a brand new black Cadillac Escalade parked on the driveway. She wondered how many cars Eric and Pam had because she was losing track.</p><p>The Police station HQ was busy with people in uniform and four different Louisiana news stations and a few local paper journalists waiting for the briefing. Shreveport had year after year made it to the top 50 most violent cities of the entire country, but it was usually because of the human-on-human kind of violence. An outright attack on the most well-known vampire business in the county had all the humans in the room fearing retaliation.</p><p>The Police Chief was stating his findings like a good little robot from behind the lectern. Every so often cameras would click and flash. In the back of the room, leaning against the far wall she saw a familiar frowning face: Alcide Hervaux. He nodded at her when their eyes met. Frozen by the idea that Eric might have seen that, she did not gesture back. This man was going to haunt her every corner she walked by, she just knew it. The Chief then called upon a "Fangtasia high exec" to deliver a brief statement before he took questions from the attendees.</p><p>Eric stepped forward after adjusting his cufflinks. The room burst in shutter clicks and blinding lights. Pam and Chow suddenly stood tall beside her, and she realized the cameras were now focusing on them. This was the most uncomfortable and distressed Olivia ever remembered being, other than maybe her father's funeral.</p><p>"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he spoke clearly and softly. "My name is Eric Northman. I am a tax-paying American, and a small business owner in the great state of Louisiana." His charm was turned up to 110, it was actually hypnotizing to watch. "I also happen to be a vampire. I first want to thank the excellent and honourable service of our town's first responders, and the Fire Marshal's thorough and ongoing investigation. I have full confidence they will catch the arsonist behind this crime,"</p><p>"Now, what happened tonight was not a spontaneous act of hatred. There has been a lot of inflammatory talk by leaders in our communities warning our fellow neighbors to not trust vampires. And I've seen this kind of hatred always brew into something much destructive time and time again. The truth is, vampires aren't much different from humans because we once <em>were</em> humans. We only ask to be treated as such. Which is why I ask that local authorities look into dissolving and shutting down Lakemount Church, the Fellowship of the Sun's local chapter,"</p><p>The room ruptured into loud voices, camera flashes and journalists' arms almost popped off their shoulder sockets trying to get their microphones any closer to the stage. "For those who have not been following Dallas v. Newlin case, the Fellowship of the Sun is a domestic terrorist organization who is so focused on dreaming of a world that is vampire-free that will harm any woman, man and child in order to achieve it-"</p><p>"Can you prove this?" A journalist shouted from the crowd. "Do you have proof Lakemount is affiliated with the Fellowship?"</p><p>Eric paused for a second, reeling into the absolute chaos he had created. The Police Chief looked as pale as Olivia's foundation. "All the proof you need is in their basement."</p><p>The Viking then thanked the room and exited stage left. Olivia was the first one to follow him, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. As they left, the Chief regretfully took the stage back as the journalists shouted questions about the arsonist's identity and if the Lakemount was behind Fangtasia's fire.</p><p>Her heart was beating in her eardrums louder than anything else in that room. As they walked outside back to their car, a handful of journalists had followed them. Eric put Olivia right in the middle of the three vampires, he pulled her close and kept his right hand in the small of her back. Every cell in her body was filled with adrenaline as the news crew yelled at them the very questions Eric wanted to hear. <em>Was this a hate crime?! Has the Church persecuted vampires before? Mr. Northman, do you really think the Fellowship would hurt humans who affiliated themselves with vampires?</em></p><p>"What have you done?" Olivia muttered to herself, so shocked at the mayhem he had caused she could not even hold it in.</p><p>Somehow, he had heard her. "I made the perfect diversion," Eric whispered in her ear.</p><p>"No," she looked up at his ice blue eyes as their party paused for Chow to open the Police station's front door amongst the large crowd who now swarm around them. "You declared war."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>An: hello bonjour &lt;3</p><p>A couple of writing notes: I have changed Olivia's eye color from blue to brown. It is not an important detail at all, it just makes more sense with her mildly tanned complexion, plus writing every single character in the story to have blue eyes is boring. But in case anyone caught that, I made the change this weekend and edited the whole story. If you read the entire thing and she had brown eyes this entire time, this is not applicable to you lol</p><p>Moving on, WHEW what a whirlwind! Although there's PLENTY of tension in store for Eric and Olivia, all this external conflict is how they are (slowly and painfully) going to go from Eric versus Olivia to Eric &amp; Olivia versus the world and I'm oh so excited to write it!</p><p>Anywho, let me know what you think, your predictions or requests - yes there will be more Alcide ;) and Godric is coming back!</p><p>xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Bruise Violet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After losing the long tail of paparazzi that was now following them, Eric dropped off Chow and Pam then headed to his (fingers crossed) last stop: Olivia's place. Maybe it was the wild rush of adrenaline, or maybe there was just something about her leather skirt hugging her hips that was extremely enticing. But as usual, she was pissed off at him. Olivia was going on and on about his TV speech as if it was a society-threatening manifesto, calling it "utterly reckless" and how the "spotlight was dangerous to put all of us in jeopardy", and blah, blah, blah.</p><p>"Oh calm down, you are blowing this out of proportion-"</p><p>"I don't think you understand the power that you have!" She nagged. "They were <em>eating you up</em>, Eric! This is going to last way longer than one news cycle, and you know it."</p><p>He knew exactly how much power he had, but he liked that she acknowledged the impact of it. Eric liked a lot of things about her tonight. "You seem to forget that I am <em>immortal,</em> Olivia. Whatever fallout comes my way from this, to me it'll be just a little bump on the road. No news cycle lasts forever. Plus, who cares what some small-town journalists have to say about someone setting a garbage fire on a bar?"</p><p>"Uhm, perhaps <em>Steve Newlin?</em> Who you basically called the puppet master behind an attack he had nothing to do with! What's going to happen when the police go to the Lakemount basement?"</p><p>He just couldn't contain himself. "They are going to find a hell of a lot of vampire hunting gear. Plus, <em>you</em> caught Steve Newlin admitting on tape that Lakemount was affiliated with the Fellowship, remember? It was basically your idea, I'm just running with it."</p><p>She was just aghast with the insinuation. Eric knew she was about the last person on earth who would get on a podium and start a fight on TV with a cult leader - Olivia was just way too discreet and too risk-averse for a stunt like that. Not because she was a coward, far from it. Being inconspicuous was more of her style, and he understood why. But there was <em>some </em>truth behind it. Blaming someone else was a clever page he borrowed from The Carson Book.</p><p>The accountant just folded her arms across her chest and didn't speak another word for the rest of the ride home. He could feel her anger and fear radiating from her little body; their blood bond was faint now but he could feel the disturbance in it. He knew her well enough to know her brain was running every worse scenario that his PR stunt could lead. But honestly, Eric knew damn well humans held no love for vampires, nor they ever would. Whatever pity his speech could provoke would be as significant as lint in a pocket. If they didn't give a fuck about the KKK burning crosses against their own back then, they sure as shit wouldn't care about something as minuscule as this now. Which meant she was either naive and this was her humanity manifesting, or she actually <em>cared</em> what happened to him. An unsettling thought.</p><p>"I need to ask you something and I want the truth. No bullshit." Olivia broke the silence. "Why did you really want me there? I served no purpose at the press conference. You didn't need a token human on stage to do what you did."</p><p>And suddenly he had to ask himself the same question. While she was getting ready for the press conference with Pamela, Eric had gotten the call that Duprez had been executed for treason and Queen Sophie-Anne sent spies to keep an eye on Peter Threadgill, King of Arkansas. But he still chose to make Olivia come along and stand alongside him, Pam and Chow for the cameras. Eric knew full well she didn't need to be up there in a room full of the local press.</p><p>"My world knows I'm devoted to protecting you," he couldn't believe he was actually telling her this. Eric pulled in front of her gate and the car came to a rolling stop. "So I wanted yours to know you are devoted to me."</p><p>The two sat quietly in the car for maybe 3 seconds staring at each other in the dark, but it certainly felt much longer. Eric shouldn't care about Olivia's attachment to this job. To her, he was just that: a means to an end, an assignment or project to be completed. But Eric caught himself feeling pleased with what he had done. He was happy when he heard she bought a house here, the same one they were now parked in front of. He was content whenever all the other vamps in Fangtasia were jealous of him whenever he was with her. Having Olivia stand behind him on TV and tell all of Shreveport that she was <em>with him </em>gave him a high he discovered he really liked. He wanted her to have some skin in the game because he was <em>all in</em> and he wanted Olivia to be too.</p><p>In one graceful movement, Olivia grabbed her purse and the door handle.</p><p>"That's a very dangerous thing you are doing," her big brown eyes were piercing right through him, and not in a way that felt pleasant. "To think that I could care about you."</p><p>And she left the car and headed inside her house alone, hurting a lot more than just his pride.</p><hr/><p>When Olivia woke up the next day she stared at her ceiling for a very long time. She laid there gathering the courage to reach for her phone, fearing the devastation Eric Northman had caused. Maybe he was right - maybe humans didn't really care about vampires all that much. Maybe the media just loved watching the circus burn. They were driven by views, money, perhaps narcissism, and felt completely indifferent about the circus animals. Still, her gut told her otherwise. Eric didn't witness what she witnessed. He <em>commanded</em> the whole room. No mind in that press conference paid attention to anything or anyone other than his every word, it was like a trance. No one, not even her could look away.</p><p>Olivia finally looked at her phone, opened the news app, and instantly felt a hot flash run through her body. The story had exploded. It made far beyond being their little local news - Eric Northman's beautiful face and unfiltered charm were stamped on the front page of the LA Times, New York Post and even freaking USA Today. Columns discussed the Vampire Rights Amendment, the unfair treatment of "model citizen vampires" and the tyranny of hatred in the name of religion, ignorance and misinformation. Other outlets told the story the other way around: a vampire strip club was just adding sin and corruption to the world, vampires should be controlled and watched, not protected or pitied.</p><p>Eric Northman created what America loves the most: controversy. And people were <em>eating it up.</em></p><p>"Sometimes I fucking hate being right," she sighed as she rushed to the living room to turn on the TV.</p><p>She flipped every channel and there he was - everywhere. Off her dreams and now onto live television. Olivia obsessively watched and read every news she could find with Eric's name or face on it, searching the background of every image footage for herself. The images were cropped enough or at an angle that didn't show her fully standing at the edge of the stage. They focused on Eric and in some instances, you could see Pam's gleeful face. Olivia's name was also not mentioned anywhere. She was safe from the public eye - for now.</p><p>Just to make sure, Liv tip-toed to the front of her living room and carefully peeked through the curtains. There were no news vans out front, just Bobby Burnham sitting in his Camry across the street reading the newspaper. <em>Whew. </em>Eric had made good on his promise that her identity would not have been compromised. Bobby noticed her watching him, and he nodded to her doorstep.</p><p>Liv slowly opened her front door and encountered something unexpected waiting for her front step: three large brown moving boxes, unlabeled. She leaned over and quickly opened the first one.</p><p>"Shut the fuck up!" She gasped pulling out her favourite rose gold sequin wrap dress out of the box.</p><p>Inside the boxes were her clothes! All of them! Her shoes, and jackets, and all her pants! She was so happy she could cry with excitement. Olivia dragged all the boxes inside and found a small note taped to the side of one of them. In a very old-fashioned cursive writing on Fangtasia stationary it read:</p><p>
  <em>I won't be caught dead being saved by someone wearing Old Navy ever again -P</em>
</p><p>Ah, that Pamela. What a bitch.</p><p>As she unpacked and put her clothes away the previous night replayed in her head. It's like Eric was stuck in her mind. Memories of him quietly watching her work at the diner; how he shielded her from the news people leaving the police headquarters; their conversation in the car the night prior (and how ruthlessly she had ended it). Eric trusted her - a lot. But he was also getting a bit too comfortable around her. Eric Northman's trust was a two-edged sword - and neither end felt quite painful which was the scariest part.</p><p>So Olivia decided to do what she did best at times like this: she threw herself into work.</p><p>Luckily, her schedule today was packed with meetings: insurance adjusters first; contractors to rebuild what was burned down second, and finally, a meeting with a realtor to find a temporary practice space for all the Fangtasia's dancers. At least the opening delay would give them more time to actually become strippers.</p><p>And to top it off, she had to find the leak in this boat in which the DEA was seeping through. She thought about going back to the Bonds office and getting the list of people arrested for vamp blood infractions and going from there. The guy seemed knowledgeable and bribeable. Someone somewhere had to be snitching and she was determined to find who. <strong>Rule number 6: you don't lose. </strong>When you work the system if you lose you die.</p><p>She ate breakfast, quickly got changed and before she knew it she was out the door, headed to Bobby's car. Now dressed in her own clothes, Olivia felt she could easily take on the world again. The meetings went better and faster than expected. It was just past noon when Olivia finished her meetings at Fangtasia. She had to lock up before she left, but the deadbolt on the back door of Fangtasia was jamming into the frame. The old metal door had expanded with the summer heat as it wasn't used to being propped open during daylight. So she had to awkwardly wrestle with the damn thing, trying to shut it. The front door had a newer lock, but it had been axed down by the firefighters and was now boarded up.</p><p>Luckily she was all alone in the back parking lot so no one saw her looking like an idiot trying to close a simple door. The only witness to the scene was the red Corvette which she still had to figure out what to do with. But that was going to be a later problem, she had enough on her plate as it was.</p><p>"Ugh, come on!" She gritted her teeth, kicking the door. She was starting to sweat in the June heat.</p><p>She was contemplating giving up and asking Bobby's help. He was at the Denny's across the street, the same place she worked in yesterday. He was waiting there for her while she was in her meetings, they would grab lunch and then he would drive her to a possible practice space for the dancers.</p><p>What she was actually really craving was lunch at Merlotte's, but not for the food per se. But she couldn't get laid with Bobby babysitting her. It would be too awkward. Olivia was surely regretting giving her car to Portia Bellefleur right about now.</p><p>Having Bobby as a chauffeur/bodyguard was nice and all, especially considering the current circumstances and the fact that taking a taxi everywhere would be costly - but she missed the independence and silence of working alone (and her ability to get laid). Bobby didn't know the extent of Eric's illegal activities (nor would he ever ask) but he wasn't stupid. Not knowing why the feds were on his boss's tail made him become extremely paranoid about every little thing. He feared he was being watched at all times; he made note of every car that followed him for more than two blocks, he thought his phones were tapped and was considering getting new phones for the entire family - or would that be too suspicious? Maybe have a burner phone? What if his wife found out? Marla would think he was cheating on her... His mind kept catastrophizing on endless loops and it was just about the last thing she needed right now.</p><p>With a loud clunk, the door's deadbolt moved correctly into the slot, successfully locking it. Relieved, she tossed her keys in her purse and spun on her heels and almost crashed into a tall figure who had materialized out of thin air. She was so focused on the stupid door she didn't notice someone approaching from behind. Both of them almost collided head-on, but he had the quick reflexes not to. She took a good look at who it was. Oh no, let's rectify that - <em>this</em> was the last thing she needed right now.</p><p>"Good afternoon, ma'am," said Alcide Herveaux with his charming southern drawl. He wore his usual black slacks and white button-up but no panic-inducing windbreaker this time (it was too humid for it).</p><p><em>Jesus fuck-</em> "You again."</p><p>"Well, don't sound <em>too</em> happy to see me, please."</p><p>She liked his sarcasm. Goddammit. "My apologies Mister Herveaux," Olivia responded warmly, overcompensating. "But isn't this the third time we meet in less than 24 hours? <em>Some</em> would consider it stalking."</p><p>"Ah, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" His face softened. "And just call me Alcide, please. Mister Hervaux is my father. Where's your partner in crime?"</p><p>It dawned on her they were very alone in a secluded parking lot. Her Corvette was witnessing a lot today. She assumed he was referring to Bobby, and she noticed Alcide was also Glenn Costa-less.</p><p>"Where's yours?"</p><p>"I prefer working alone."</p><p>That, she could relate to. Olivia looked at all of him again. There was a lot to look at. "What can I help you with, agent?"</p><p>"Why don't I buy you coffee and we'll have a friendly chat? There's a Denny's across the street-"</p><p><em>Oh shit</em>, that's where Bobby was. He would have a heart attack right then and there if she walked in the diner with Alcide Herveaux on her heel. She could also not bring Alcide into Fangtasia for at least 34 reasons, but the top 2 would be: he would say no as a werewolf walking into a vampire bar uninvited could be seen as an act of war and Eric would kill him; and if he said yes, Olivia and Alcide's scent would be all over the place, wrong conclusions would be drawn then Eric would kill her; Either way, <em>someone was going to die.</em></p><p>So that left her with only one option:</p><p>"Alcide," Olivia smirked and adjusted her hair. "Do I seem like a coffee at Denny's kind of woman to you?"</p><p>He shifted his weight on his feet and looked away flustered for a moment before clearing his throat. Despite looking the way he did, he wasn't used to women flirting with him - at least not upfront like this. "Err, no you don't."</p><p>"Good. I'll be at Les Deux Poissons tonight at 8, seated at the bar."</p><p>When Alcide said nothing at this, she knew she held all the cards. This was better than any orgasm Sam Merlotte could have given her. Barely containing her smile, she started to walk away, heels hitting hard against the lumpy pavement. She could hear him follow her.</p><p>Olivia knew it was a dangerous move, talking to him <em>at all</em>. But it was the fastest and most efficient way of finding out how much he knew and most importantly: how. Fuck the dingy bonds office. If they were seated at the bar, she could brush her forearm against his, maybe let their legs touch a little and she would get a clearer picture of his clouded werewolf mind. Oh, it would be hard, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.</p><p>"I don't even know your name," he said, making his presence known to be much closer than she imagined. He was quietly stalking her like a wolf hunting prey. It made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up.</p><p>"Yes you do," she said over her shoulder, turning the corner of the building that separated the employee and guest parking lots. She could see his black Dodge Ram parked out front. Alcide managed to run into her three times in 24 hours: Long Shadow's house, the precinct and here. Maybe the first time was a coincidence, and the second one was curiosity. But this one felt intentional. If he was an agent worth his salt he would know damn well who she was, or else this game would be <em>way</em> too easy. Boring even.</p><p>The two parted ways in the parking lot, the wolf getting into his truck and Olivia headed across the street.</p><p>"I'll see you at 8, Olivia Carson," Alcide called out.</p><p>Let the wicked games begin.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Les Deux Poissons was one of the few upscale restaurants in Shreveport. Her favorite was still the Rabbiteye at the Fairview Hotel, but meeting Alcide Herveaux in too close proximity of a hotel bed would be cruelly toying with her vagina's emotions.</p><p>It was an upscale place, and she was never so grateful for having her clothes back. She chose her favourite little black dress and strappy heels and a small burgundy clutch. She would be dressed to kill.</p><p>After her meeting with the realtor, she spent the afternoon reviewing the lease for the practice space. She was happy that everything was falling into place. As the summer sun was setting she started to get ready for her <em>meeting</em> with the agent (despite it looking and feeling like a date). Before getting in the shower she texted Eric and told him she was taking the night off before he got any ideas of summoning her. He was going to wake up tonight and handle the PR nightmare he created on his fucking own. No Olivia to the rescue this time.</p><p>Then, with curlers still in her hair, she googled Alcide Hervaux. It was too dangerous to ask Volac, her Russian hacker, to look into him - the government protects its federal agents, and anyone using backdoors gets put on the NSA list faster than you can blink.</p><p>But she didn't have to spend too much time trying to find him on the internet, oh no. Alcide Hervaux was the son of Jackson Herveaux (or Mister Herveaux, as Alcide called him), the surveying giant. Herveaux Inc had offices all throughout the south, and its net worth was in the small millions. She wondered what the hell he was doing being a narc when he was the heir to such a successful business. Olivia sure as hell wouldn't be here if she came from money.</p><p>When she arrived at Les Deux Poissons, the place was pretty full for a Wednesday. The dimly-lit, borderline dark restaurant had that 90s french restaurant look, and she was sure the food tasted like it too. She was the only person seated at the bar, and she generously tipped the hostess to keep it that way. Olivia ordered a gin and tonic and grew increasingly nervous as the clock struck closer to eight, so she started scanning brain waves of the bartender. He thought about finally telling his roommate he was to blame for accidentally letting his cat out. It had been 4 nights since the feline had gone missing, and he thought he was dead for sure. There were too many night critters in Northern Louisiana with an appetite for fat indoor cats. His mind was otherwise uninteresting, but there wasn't much else to distract her from the idea of <em>meeting with a goddamn DEA agent</em>.</p><p>She was either insane or a total genius. Probably a mix of the two. Olivia was in the middle of questioning her own sanity when Alcide walked through the front door and met her eyes right away. He had the same sexy smouldering look he always did. He was wearing a blue oxford shirt, a brown blazer and dark pants, and he had put some gel through his messy soft hair. He had a cowboy air about him when he wasn't dressed in DEA chic. It suited him well and she was never so thankful for not being in walking distance to a bed.</p><p>"This feels a hell lot like a date," he stated in a low voice, then he ordered a beer and sat carefully on the stool beside her, his enormous thigh brushing against hers. She was correct in her theory of getting a clearer picture of his mind by being closer to him. He was unsure if the dainty stool would hold his weight as he slowly sat down.</p><p>She rested her elbows on the bar and played with her drink's short little straw. "Don't tell your wife then."</p><p>"I don't got a wife," Alcide retorted immediately, clearly flustered. <em>God, she was good at this.</em> His mind got clouded again, but she could tell he was thinking of Debbie Pelt. There was something strong between the two, but it was complicated. Like, he's a DEA agent and she's a vampire blood enthusiast kind of complicated. Debbie would lose her damn mind if she found out he met a lady in one of the fanciest restaurants of Northern Louisiana, one Debbie hinted many times she wanted to go but he never took her.</p><p>"Relax, this is not a date. I don't date."</p><p>He shot a skeptical look and jumped straight to business. "Your boss knows you're here?"</p><p>"I don't have a boss, I work for myself. But if you mean my <em>client</em>, then yes," she lied. In what world would Eric be even slightly okay with any of this, she couldn't even fathom it.</p><p>"So tell me what a woman like you is doing taking clients like Eric Northman."</p><p>Olivia decided she was going to play sweet. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. "Describe a woman like me."</p><p>He took a deep and thoughtful sip of his IPA before answering. "Graduated high school early, Princeton grad on a scholarship, CPA of immaculate record, fast-tracking her way up the corporate ladder in a big New York suddenly washes up here, of all places. Working for a vamp as a financial advisor."</p><p>And he said that with great distaste, and not because he was shitty drinking beer.</p><p>She was well aware of the parts of her life that were public record. He didn't discover anything she didn't know it wasn't already out there, but he did do his homework before coming here. So now Liv pondered her next play. He seemed sincere in his question, so she boldly told the truth. "Office romance. It didn't work out."</p><p>He did a half chuckle, not believing her. "Damn, how bad did you fuck up to burn every bridge in New York? Or unlike popular belief, does Manhattan only have one accounting firm?"</p><p><em>Ouch.</em> This is what she got when she played nice with men. "And you wonder why I don't date," she said behind a fake smile, focusing on her drink for a moment. It was time to lay some cards down. "So, agent, what brings you here: DEA business, or pack business?"</p><p>Alcide glanced at the bartender and did a full room scan with his eyes, hoping no one heard her question out loud. "Oh yeah," she added. "I know you're a big fan of the full moon."</p><p>He shifted on his chair, trying to put some distance between them, but Olivia leaned closer. Alcide was uneasy with others knowing his true nature, especially while working.</p><p>"This got nothing to do with that. I'm not part of the Shreveport pack or any pack for that matter," he said defensively, with darkness behind his eyes she hadn't seen yet. Alcide was a lone wolf. "The DEA is opening a case on Eric Northman."</p><p>His mind jumbled a lot of thoughts together. It jumped to Glenn Costa, he was the initial driving force behind the investigation. But for Alcide it was personal - vampire blood had ruined Debbie Pelt's life and he was hell-bent on avenging the life with her he never got the chance to have.</p><p>"Based on what?"</p><p>"Oh, come on… We both know who Eric Northman is, and what he's capable of," his mind clouded over again, agitated with his feelings against the vampire. Alcide Herveaux <em>loathed</em> Eric Northman. Was this a personal vendetta against Eric, or did he hate or all vampires?</p><p>"Good to know the government wastes my tax dollars on what people are capable of."</p><p>"Eric Northman may be trending the news right now, but we both know he is no saint," <em>Understatement of the year.</em> "He's been poisoning Shreveport for way too long-"</p><p>Did he even hear himself talk? "Poisoning with what? Employment? Infrastructure investment? Hard-earned tax dollars?"</p><p>"Oh don't bullshit me," he scoffed rolling his eyes. "We both know he's been allowing vamps to sell their blood and taking a cut of the profits-"</p><p>"Do you have <em>any</em> idea what exactly you are accusing my client of? Most vampires may not care for human laws, but they certainly care about breaking vampire laws. Selling their blood is highly illegal-"</p><p>"And highly profitable," he interrupted. "10 ml of the stuff sells for over 200 on the streets, making a pint of blood go for almost 10 grand. Money is the only thing guys like Eric care about."</p><p>While Alcide did have a point there, it wasn't his choice for side income. This made clear that the Queen was nowhere near his radar which was the best news she'd gotten all week. She could still make all of this go away, especially if Alcide was this attached to the case. People who emotionally attach themselves to work make mistakes under pressure. All she had to do was squeeze.</p><p>"Work with me, Olivia." Alcide looked deeply into her eyes. "I can grant you immunity-"</p><p>She had to hold back the laughter. "Immunity from what, exactly? None of what you're saying is true, Alcide-"</p><p>He leaned closer."Are you being blackmailed? What do they have on you?"</p><p>If they were any closer, they would kiss. His body felt warm like being seated near a fireplace. His intentions were genuine too - he wanted her to tell him the truth so he could go arrest Eric this very night. And he was also telling the truth about saving her - he thought Olivia was too young and bright to end up in jail because of Eric Northman.</p><p>His concern was <em>almost</em> touching. Olivia knew the next logical play would play the damsel in distress role. He was almost begging her to, he wanted to <em>save</em> her so badly. Oh, poor, inocent Alcide.</p><p>She gave a broken smile and looked away at the bottles sitting high on the bar. Her silence was the answer he wanted. Suddenly her phone lit up and started buzzing. It was almost cinematic timing when her call display visibly read <em>Eric Northman</em>. Both of them read it.</p><p>"I can protect you, Olivia," he reassured her, putting his large hand on top of hers.</p><p>She felt shivers go up her arm, and sparks on her skin. His touch felt electric, and it took a dramatic few seconds of her phone buzzing on the counter alone before she reached for it. Olivia rejected the call and straightened her back. "I need to know you mean it."</p><p>Alcide's mind burst with what she could only describe as a high. There wasn't a clouded thought insight. "All I need you to do is collaborate on his money-laundering scheme,"</p><p>It was as if someone took a knife and stabbed her right in the heart. Who said anything about laundering money?! She thought they got a vampire or drainer, or a dealer to confess Eric's shady business, but laundering money was <em>her</em> responsibility.</p><p>She barely got the words out, scared of the answer. "Go on."</p><p>"We know Eric's recently acquired multiple businesses and buildings all across town, under shell companies. They are all prime for cleaning his dirty drug money-"</p><p>"His <em>hypothetical dirty </em>drug money," she reminded him.</p><p>"And he rewarded his lawyer with a very <em>real</em> bribe. A brand new BMW."</p><p>All air got sucked out of the room. She could feel her blood chill with the realization it was all her fault. He was still holding her hand, the only source of heat in the entire room at that very moment. She could read his thoughts clearly: Portia Bellefleur's car was the first domino to fall in the sequence of events that led her to be seated here. The second was the fact that her <em>fucking fiance</em> was Glenn Costa. The third was that he hated vampires as much as Alcide did. The fourth was the both of them worked at the same DEA office. One night the two grabbed happy hour beers at the Rose Crown, Glenn vented to Alcide he was avoiding going home and confronting Portia about where the car came from and the rest was history.</p><p>Olivia had made one small, but colossal mistake. She was so focused on keeping Portia in line, she put the entire operation in jeopardy. All because she wanted to own Eric's stupid house for petty revenge. Warranted revenge, but petty nonetheless. And it came back to bite her in the ass.</p><p>But on the other hand… That was all they had. A gifted car from a vampire client bruised Glenn's ego so much, the only way his smooth male brain could process her getting it was if her client was a criminal, and his bride-to-be was being taken advantage of. He surely did not see her squeals of excitement in her office when Olivia had tossed her the keys. Portia had <em>worked</em> for that car. She was as deserving of it as Olivia was.</p><p>"Olivia?" Alcide called her back to reality with a little squeeze on her hand, which she instinctively pulled away.</p><p>A figure approached them, and she recognized the vampire from the corner of her eye. The hostess was at his heel, alarmed he had approached the guests she had been so well paid to guarantee their privacy.</p><p>"For you," Chow handed her his cellphone, glaring at Alcide.</p><p>The two men locked eyes in a deadly staring contest. Olivia nodded for the hostess to leave, and then took the slim phone from Chow's cold hand, trying not to tremble.</p><p>"<em>I need to see you,"</em> Eric's still voice spoke. Was the room spinning?</p><p>"No," Olivia said bitterly. Never mind how Chow had found her, or who he found her meeting with. She had requested this night off, and she made it abundantly clear he was to respect her privacy about 12 times already. If she didn't at least have her privacy, then her mistake had been for nothing.</p><p>"<em>Come here to my house, right now.</em>" He demanded. If he were here right now, he would be pressing his chest against her body, she just knew it.</p><p>"No," she repeated, feeling her body heat and heart rate coming back all at once.</p><p>"<em>Fine, then I'll come to you. Hope you're not having </em>too <em>much fun on your personal time off.</em>"</p><p>She knew she had no choice but to obey. Olivia handed the phone back to Chow and stood up, leaving Alcide alone with his beer. She slid a twenty-dollar bill onto the counter to pay for the drinks. Their eyes met one more time, and she played the damsel in distress one last time before leaving with her vampire escort. "Sorry, I can't help you."</p><p>She wondered how much of it she was pretending at that moment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A.N:</p><p>Ooohhh shit. Now what?!</p><p> </p><p>Hello, my sweet angels! I don't think I have ever spent so much time writing and re-writing a chapter like this one but I hope it was worth it! Until next time xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Bull in the Heather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pam didn't knock on his door before walking in, which greatly annoyed him. His progeny should know better by now, but under certain circumstances, she tended to forget. This seemed to be one of them.</p><p>"Nan fucking Flannagan is at the front door for you." She quipped, completely ignoring the fact he was in the middle of dinner.</p><p>He knew to expect her visit, especially after checking the evening news. Turns out, Olivia knew a thing or two about mass human behaviour. He still believed the story would die in another cycle or two, but he had certainly made more ripples in the water than he intended to.</p><p>Eric was about to tell Pamela to just let the AVL's Alpha bitch in when he realized <em>why</em> Pamela had burst through his bedroom door. She couldn't, and neither could him. Olivia owned their fucking house, and she was the only one who could invite other vampires inside like she had done with Chow the previous night.</p><p>He pulled his mouth away from the human woman sitting on his bed. "Call her, don't you?" Eric said, caressing the woman who became agitated with Pam's rude entrance.</p><p>Pam lazily walked to his dresser and dialled Olivia's number from his phone. Eric returned his attention to the woman on his bed, while Pam's gaze rested on both of them. He didn't mind her watching. After a minute, she rudely interrupted again. "She hung up."</p><p>Eric pulled again harshly from his dinner, who whined in pain and restlessness. Pam was going through his phone now, and before he knew it, she was deep in his text messages.</p><p>"The bitch apparently requested a PTO for tonight? I didn't even know we did that," her brows arched in discontent.</p><p>"We don't," Eric grumbled, losing his appetite.</p><p>Olivia Carson had <em>epically</em> bad timing. What could possibly be so important that she would ask for personal time off? Had she forgotten who she worked for? Or what did she for a living? There was no time off from <em>this</em>.</p><p>"I'll deal with her, go entertain Nan."</p><p>"You're <em>joking</em>-"</p><p>"Go!" He thundered, making his dinner whimper. Pam stormed out, leaving the door wide open. "You too." He motioned to the lady whose name he couldn't bother remembering. Disappointed their time was over, she quietly got dressed and left.</p><p>Eric put on a shirt and called Olivia again. It went straight to voicemail - she had turned off her phone.</p><p>"Why? Why can't everything just work smoothly for once?" He muttered to himself before calling Chow. "Find <em>her now</em>. Call me when you do."</p><p>And because Chow was one of the last competent vampires on earth, he did so without questions or complaints.</p><p>Eric finished getting dressed and headed down to the main floor. He could hear Nan's shrieks from the top of the stairs. When he got to the lobby, Pam was nowhere to be found, but the front door was wide open with Nan fucking Flanagan standing by it, wearing an all-white suit and holding a burgundy briefcase.</p><p>"There you are! Northman, I don't know what kind of circus you're running here, but-"</p><p>"I can't invite you inside, Nan." Eric interrupted, making his way down from the last steps.</p><p>"You're telling me you don't own the house you live in?"</p><p>"Security measures," he scanned the living room again, but no sight of his progeny. He gave her <em>one</em> fucking task- "At what do I owe the absolute pleasure of your visit?"</p><p>"Drop the act. You know damn well why I'm here. The press conference; I want to know who was the moron who green-lighted that TV appearance without my say-so."</p><p>"What, you <em>own</em> the television now?" He sneered. "It's my area, I will appear on the local TV if I want to."</p><p>"The fuck you do. Your goddamn face is plastered all over CNN," she said full of resentment. If memory served him correctly, it was the one platform that refused to have her on as a guest.</p><p>"Ah, I see. So, has my face ruined our reputation yet?"</p><p>He knew the answer, he just wanted to rub it in. "No," she squinted. "Our ratings are up. You polled favorably with most age groups, and higher than me with white men over 35."</p><p>"Wow, humans are stupider than I thought."</p><p>"Oh shut the fuck up, Northman." She grumbled, her fangs peeking out from behind her thin lips.</p><p>"I accomplished what I needed to, I'll stay off your spotlight from now on. Just wear a slutty dress or something on your next TV appearance and I'm sure they'll forget all about me."</p><p>Nan's jaw locked for a moment and her eyes were boring holes in his skull. Then she dropped the bomb. "We're 8 points higher on the polls for the Vampire Rights Amendment since this morning. The higher-ups think you are too valuable <em>not</em> to use. Trust me, it wasn't my choice either-"</p><p>"Too bad I am already working full time as the Area 5 Sheriff for our good Queen Sophie-Anne LeClerc."</p><p>"I know. Which is why my people and the Queen agreed on letting the AVL use you sporadically."</p><p><em>Oh hell fucking no</em>. "Define sporadically."</p><p>"While your political capital is still high, you are going to represent vampire interests at a fundraiser gala for a Governor campaign in Baton Rouge this Friday."</p><p>Just when he thought things just couldn't get any worse. "Well, aren't I the luckiest girl in school?" He stared at her resting cold bitch face. "Yeah, I don't think so. I'll be busy sawing off my own arms this Friday, see how long it takes for them to grow back."</p><p>She tilted her head and gave her a sour look. "I don't remember giving you a choice, Northman. If you can't make it, I can easily make you <em>not</em> Sherriff any longer. Would that clear your busy schedule?"</p><p>The two stood in the doorway, stuck in a stalemate. Eric had to rethink his strategy: would he be willing to be a double slave in the short term, in order to not be Nan Flanagan's pitbull long term? He knew what the answer was, and he was regretting ever going on television right about now.</p><p>Nan took his cold silence as compliance. "That's what I thought," she smirked, pleased at bending Eric to her will. She opened her briefcase, pulled out a thick manilla envelope and shoved it on Eric's chest. He grabbed the heavy papers reluctantly.</p><p>"Are we done here?"</p><p>"We sure are. And make sure to bring a human date. Someone classy, but <em>not</em> a prostitute. Your accountant or your lawyer would do."</p><p>Bringing Olivia to this was adding salt to the wound. "What does she have to do with it?"</p><p>"My PR team thinks it will play better than if you show up as a couple. Everyone loves a little love story. We already paid TMZ to be there, you'll be on the tabloids come Saturday morning as America's newest love story."</p><p>Eric blinked slowly, unsure if this was all a bad dream. "I am over a <em>thousand</em> years old, do I look like America's newest love story?"</p><p>"Hey, I didn't make you get in front of the camera," she waved her arms. "You wanted the glory, now you gotta pay for it. Why did you hold that press conference anyway?"</p><p>To get the cops off the trail of an arsonist who was paid by the vampires of Arkansas to take him out partially for revenge, partially because he was the Queen's strongest ally and they wanted to see her fall.</p><p>"I have my reasons."</p><p>"I'll pretend that I care," Nan sighed, then gave one last eye roll before making her way back to her car parked in the driveway. "Be there Friday night. And it was five thousand dollars a ticket, so dress like it. Read the briefing, I'll keep you in the loop."</p><p>"Or don't," Eric called out as she got in the car.</p><p>She glared at him before she closed her car's back passenger door. He just knew Nan was giving him the finger behind the black tinted windows as her driver drove off. Eric held the heavy envelope in his hands. He wondered if Nan just didn't take no for an answer, or if this assignment was really worth the entirety of Area 5. And the worst part is now he had to drag Olivia into this.</p><p>It seemed that the more he fought his way to stay alive in this world, the tighter the Authority held his grip on him. There was no way to outrun them, to outmaneuver them, to be free. He paid a steep price last time he thought he was above Nan Flanagan, and he was not willing to pay it again. He couldn't afford to.</p><p>"PAMELA!" His voice shook the empty walls of the house.</p><p>In response, her voice called from the backyard, which he followed marching with disdain at every step. Pamela disobeyed him all time. Her insubordination was a luxury he gave her, he realized because he himself couldn't. One step out of line, and he would lose it all. Eric found her comfortably sprawled on the patio sofa deep inside the garden gazebo. She was feeding Debbie Pelt blood from her wrist like a renaissance painting. The werewolf woman was on her knees, suckling on Pamela's wrist as if life depended on it, irregularly breathing between sips. Pamela stroked the woman's hair with the other hand, enjoying the total and absolute control she had on the woman.</p><p>Eric approached watching the scene, his fangs ached with anger. How could she be so reckless as to feed a werewolf junkie her own blood with the AVL breathing down their necks? Even if Debbie Pelt was their mole and she had crucial information, this was not the time and this was not the fucking place.</p><p>Pamela noticed Eric approaching and gave him a dangerous smile. "Oh, you won't believe what little Debbie just told me."</p><hr/><p>Chow dropped Olivia off in front of Eric's humble abode and drove off without a word. In fact, he said nothing all ride long. She could tell he wanted to by the way he avoided looking at her - dead woman walking. Olivia felt butterflies scratch her insides as she stood alone in the dark sidewalk, peaking at the house's dim yellow lights behind the overgrown trees. She took a deep breath. <em>He cannot hurt me</em>, she reminded herself. The worst he can do is feed her his blood again. The thought of having him coursing through her veins again made her shiver.</p><p>But not with fear, no. With fucking anger.</p><p>Olivia raised her chin up high and strode up the path to the house, both fearless and pissed off. To an outsider looking in, Olivia looked like she got pulled out from a not-a-date to a not-a-booty-call. She was about to knock, but the door swung open before her knuckles hit the door. Eric stood in the doorway looking taller and sexier than usual, his icy blue eyes staring her down. He wore his usual black jeans and tight black crew neck which showed every chest, shoulder and arm muscle he had. The Viking motioned for her to come inside, and she followed. After closing the door behind her, he locked it. The last time the two were alone in this house, things got… Unpleasantly heated.</p><p>"Why don't you have a seat?" His cold voice spoke behind her.</p><p>"No." If she said it once, she said it a million times already. "I am here, now what do you want?"</p><p>"Sit down, Olivia!" He hissed, his fangs showing through the corners of his mouth.</p><p>Slowly, she entered his living room and sat at the edge of the armchair closest to the door. She crossed her leg, letting the slit of her dress cascade open. Eric paced calmly around the room, looking directly at her with the intensity of the sun. But he said nothing. He knew where she was, he knew who she was with. But did he know why? Did he care?</p><p>You know what, she was tired of having to explain to him how their relationship was supposed to work. She was tired of being treated like a child, of having to walk on eggshells and having to factor in Eric into every fucking choice she made.</p><p>The vampire stood perfectly still behind the opposing armchair, hands grabbing the high back like a macabre portrait. He was studying her, thinking about what to do. She came all this way, so he could <em>think</em>?</p><p>"So? What do you want? I am busy." She barked.</p><p>"Are you? Thought you were having some personal time off."</p><p>Olivia burst with anger. She stood up and hurled her clutch on the chair she jumped out of. "I've been busy working for <em>you</em> every fucking waking moment for months-"</p><p>"And you spend your <em>one</em> night off on a date with Alcide Herveaux?!"</p><p>She clenched her jaw, trying to hold a howl of anger inside. She knew their blood bond had faded, so she didn't understand how Eric got under her skin so easily. Liv was about to tell him it wasn't a date, but maybe it was safer for her to tell him that it was. "Who I date is none of your business."</p><p>"For someone who claims to see our enemies coming from a mile away, you surely disappoint me. Unless of course," he let go of the chair and walked around it, getting closer. "You know exactly who Alcide Hervaux is."</p><p>"There are aspects of my life that I simply do not have to explain to you."</p><p>Eric raised his brows, surprised at her reaction. "Why were you meeting a federal agent, Olivia?" He tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes sparkling with curiosity.</p><p>Olivia felt her nails dig crescent moons on her palms. She internally argued with her own pride and ego on whether or not to tell Eric Northman, vampire Sheriff of Area 5 that she had immensely fucked up. That her actions caused the DEA to open a case on him. She feared saying it out loud would make it real, but the situation she was in was already very, very real. She was about 5 minutes from swallowing vampire blood or worse.</p><p>"I was on a date." She told him but Eric chortled, not believing her bluff. "What? Is that so hard to believe?"</p><p>"You are an excellent liar, Olivia." Eric smiled, untucked one hand from his pocket and gently stroked a strand of hair off her face. She felt a cold shiver run up her stomach as if she plunged hip-deep into arctic cold waters. "But I know you got my house by bribing my lawyer with a car and it made the wolves rather suspicious."</p><p>And suddenly the arctic cold waters were up to her neck. "How do you-"</p><p>"You think you can make moves around my back?" He asked in deadly a whisper, his smile suddenly vanished. If looks could kill, she would be dead. "There is no behind my back."</p><p>Eric had this gift of making everything sound like a threat. She was beginning to wonder if that was just how he spoke. Olivia knew she was all out of cards to play, a feeling she wasn't used to at all. How in the world could Portia Bellefleur have snitched on her? And <em>why</em> would she do so? She hates vampires, she would never - wait a second… There was someone <em>else</em> who would know about the car.</p><p>"Debbie Pelt," Olivia muttered. "She works for you. She works for Portia <em>and </em>knows Alcide. You <em>knew</em> the DEA was coming for you this entire time."</p><p>He smirked at the question, pleased she figured it out. "What does my good lycanthrope friend Alcide Hervaux want? <em>Other</em> than rearranging your insides."</p><p>"It was just a date, Eric, which you ruined by the way. And <em>ew-</em>"</p><p>"Is that so?" He smirked again. He didn't look particularly sorry. "Did he at least offer you immunity?"</p><p>She shifted the weight on her heels feeling hyper-aware of how close they stood. Eric was getting exceedingly good at making her body wish they were closer. "I would never-"</p><p>"Answer the question."</p><p>Rule number 10: if you are going to bluff… "I know this may surprise you, but we didn't talk about you. Not once."</p><p>"I have other ways of making you talk," his voice was threatening in a dark and perverted way.</p><p>"Oh, I'm sure you do," her gaze dropped to his lips. She could feel her heartbeat against his chest.</p><p>But he had other plans. "When I call you I expect you to answer me, have I made myself clear?"</p><p><em>Oh hell no</em>. She snapped out of it. "No. I won't be at your beck and call like a trained dog." She grabbed her clutch and pulled out her phone to call a cab. "Now can I go?"</p><p>"I'm not done with you."</p><p>She sighed, trying to relax her shoulders. Her whole body was jittering. "What else do you want, Eric?"</p><p>He faced her head on, his body touching her front, sending goose bumps everywhere. Their eyes were fixed on each other, and she was never so thankful he couldn't read her inner emotions as he could weeks ago. Because being this close to him awoke something in her much bigger than anger.</p><p>"You."</p><p>Her heart missed several beats. "Goodbye, Eric."</p><p>And she forced her feet to take long strides away from the vampire before she did something monumentally stupid.</p><p>"Oh, come on Olivia!" Eric called out, his frustration bouncing off the walls of his big empty house.</p><p>She was two feet away from the front door, but she whipped her body around to look at him one last time. "You do not summon me!"</p><p>But Eric was right behind her, his large cold hand slipped around her arm and pulled her closer. She tangled into his arms softly. "You do not walk away from me!"</p><p>"Let <em>me</em> make something very clear," she glanced at his fangs which were glistening two inches away from her lips, then back up at his dark cold blue eyes. Maybe it was the unexplainable heat coming off her skin making her delirious, maybe she just ran out of lies for one day; because what came out of her mouth was the raw and indisputable truth. "I am not a toy for you to play with when you're bored, or lonely, or horny! I am not a prize for you to show off to your friends, or an asset for you to use! If you want me, Eric, then <em>EARN ME!</em>"</p><p>He looked at her again with that look she didn't quite understand, then retracted his fangs. Any emotion he showed her suddenly disappeared as he let go of her and stepped back. His whole demeanor changed as if he suddenly were speaking to someone else entirely.</p><p>And when he spoke, he was talking to his accountant and nothing more. She didn't know why that hurt some deep part of her, but it did. Eric Northman was not interested in earning her in any real way. No one was. "The American Vampire League was pleased with my television performance and wants me to use my newfound influence at a political fundraiser this Friday, and I need a human date."</p><p>He stiffly reached for a large manilla envelope on the sideboard table by the stairs and handed it to her with his long arm, keeping a healthy distance. She felt her body moving in slow motion as she accepted the heavy package from him. "Please tell Portia Bellefleur to be ready at 8."</p><p>Then the world flung itself forward a bit too fast. "What?"</p><p>Eric approached her and she swore he was going to touch her again, and for a split second she yearned for it. But his hand reached for the door's deadbolt, unlocking it and pushing the door open for her to leave. He was done with her. She didn't understand her own disappointment at his cold reaction, but she felt an invisible hand twist her gut sideways.</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>Olivia gathered her broken pride and walked out. It wasn't often that she made herself vulnerable like this, but Eric was a master at jumping over the walls she had built to protect herself. Clearly, she had to build them higher.</p><p>She was halfway down the path out his front garden when his voice called out through the dark night. "Did she?" Olivia turned around and saw the Viking studying her from the top of his porch. For a moment he looked saddened for letting her walk away. "Did she earn you?"</p><p>It took her a full moment for her to realize who he was referring to. "Yes," Liv said, avoiding his gaze. "But I wish that she hadn't."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooof God, I love writing spicy chapters!</p><p>I was re-watching True Blood this week and I honestly forgot how unbelievably hot Alexander Skarsgard is. Seriously, how is it even humanly possible to be THAT attractive?</p><p>And thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart for the lovely comments I've received so far, especially from the last chapter. It means the world to me that you love my little story.</p><p>Til the next chapter! Much love</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Guess who's back! ME!</p><p>I'm a sucker for crime shows featuring anti-hero characters (Ozarks, Good Girls, Breaking bad, Suits, The Good Wife) so I figured I could write one in my favourite fandom. I only have the first 3 chapters written so far, I'm kinda winging this one (gasp). Not sure how close it will follow the show yet, Sookie will NOT be a part of this story.</p><p>Anyway, I hope you like it</p><p>xoxo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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